The Wedding Date
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Carol and Daryl are the best of friends. When they are left without dates to a mutual friend's wedding, they decide to go alone...together.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.

The Wedding Date

Chapter 1

"Name: Carol Peletier. Sex: Female. Age: 43. Eyes: Blue. Hair: Grey, but don't let it fool you. Blame my ex-husband," Carol muttered as she typed at her laptop. A snort on the other line had her grumbling.

"That was funny."

"Are you kidding me?" Carol snorted, hitting the backspace key on her laptop. "I'm not putting that in there."

"Oh, no, that was good! It shows your sense of humor."

"Mich, I don't know about this," Carol said with a heavy sigh, pushing her laptop away and flopping back onto her bed.

"Come on. It's been a year since you kicked Ed's ass to the curb. You need to get out and get some."

"Who says I haven't gotten any?" Carol asked with a laugh.

"Well, any worth keeping around for more," Michonne offered. At Carol's snort, Michonne laughed. "Come on. This site's worth a try. It's where I met Rick."

"Yeah, well, you're lucky. Being _my_ luck, he'll end up being a serial killer. Or he'll like blue grass and drink milk from the carton."

"Those are the only two extremes, after all," Michonne laughed. "Ok. Ok. Fine. But you're the one that said she _had_ to find a date for the wedding, which is in two weeks, may I remind you."

"I know. And I'll find one. Hey, Daryl said he's not bringing Christy, because she's got plans with family."

"Well, why don't you call him and ask him to be _your_ date?" Michonne asked with a grin. "Come on, the only thing that would top my wedding day would be seeing my two best friends finally hook up. Don't tell Rick. His ego is so fragile ever since I caught him singing _Oops, I Did it Again_ in the shower."

"You're crazy," Carol laughed.

"Aren't you even curious? I mean, you've been friends for, what, longer than you've known Ed?"

"And it just never happened."

"Did you ever want it to happen?"

"Michonne, he's taken!"

"Well, come on. You can't blame a girl for being curious. I didn't join the party until you and Ed were on the downward spiral, and Daryl looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass, and you always change the subject when I ask if you two have ever bumped uglies."

"Oh my God. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait. Wait, ok. I'm sorry. I've been spending entirely too much time with Tara. You know how she is."

"You're forgiven," Carol snorted. "And, just to make things clear, there's never been any bumping of anything between me and Daryl. He's been my best friend since high school. He's just not a relationship kind of guy. This thing with Christy will be over in a few weeks, if not sooner."

"How do you know?" Michonne asked.

"Well, the relationships he's been in have never lasted more than a month or two. I mean, he seems to be happier when he isn't with somebody. He's always miserable when he's with somebody. For example, he brought Christy over the other night, and he looked so bored with her."

"Hmm."

"What 'hmm?'"

"Well, did you ever think that maybe he's miserable, because he knows he's dating the wrong person?"

"What are you talking about?" Carol asked with a sigh.

"Well, I mean, isn't it possible that he seems happier when he's single, because when he's single, he's always hanging out with you?" A pause. "Or maybe not." She sighed. "Haven't you ever thought about what it might be like? To try things with Daryl?"

"No…no, of course not," Carol lied, feeling her mouth go dry.

"Well, maybe I'm just imagining things," Michonne offered. Carol sat up when she heard the familiar rumble of Daryl's motorcycle outside.

"I've gotta go, Mich."

"Alright. But don't forget. Tomorrow. Picking up the dresses and hitting the gym. I've got to work off these last ten pounds."

"You look great. You always do," Carol reminded her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," Michonne offered cheerfully, before Carol ended the call.

She quickly got up and moved to the mirror, running her fingers through her hair, thankful that her lazy afternoon hadn't completely taken the style out of her short, grey locks. The knock came to the front door, and she took the stairs down two at a time, breathless by the time she opened it up to see him standing there with his helmet in one hand and a pizza in the other. She laughed at the image that popped into her head of him riding across town with a hot pizza in his lap.

"How on earth did you get that over here?" she asked.

"Very carefully," he smirked. "Got your favorite." She lifted the lid and took a whiff, inhaling the wonderful aroma.

"Ooh, pepperoni and bacon. You're the best. I wasn't expecting you today."

"You got plans?"

"Well, now I do," she said with a grin. "Pizza and a movie sound good?"

"Sounds good. You were that bored that you came all the way across town?"

"My place needs to be decontaminated." At Carol's bewildered expression, Daryl rolled his eyes. "Merle crashed at my place last night. And he brought a girl. They were both drunk."

"Oh," she chuckled.

"Besides, it's gonna rain. Best time for pizza and a movie."

"There isn't a cloud in the sky, Daryl," she murmured, thought secretly, she was glad he'd found an excuse to come over to hang out. Then again, he always seemed to find even the flimsiest of excuses to hang out with her. Was there maybe some truth to what Michonne had said?

They were halfway down the hall toward the kitchen when Carol paused and turned, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I thought you had plans with Christy."

"I broke up with her," he muttered.

"Aw, that's too bad. She was sweet."

"You met her, right?" Daryl asked. Carol couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she turned her back to him, stepping into the kitchen and grabbing a couple of glasses out of the cabinet.

"Is this a beer breakup or a scotch breakup?" she asked.

"Beer. I ain't that broke up about it."

"Yeah, I can see that," she murmured. "Just didn't hit it off?"

"It was alright, but we were havin' dinner last night, and she starts talking about what she wants to name her first kid. And she starts coming up with names that go with Dixon, and that's when I realized I don't want to pick out names with her, let alone have a kid."

"Well," she chuckled, "that seems like a pretty good reason to break up with someone."

"Well, it's Saturday. I'm sure there are plenty of girls at the bar willing to help you get over her." She could feel his eyes on her as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the plates on the top shelf. When she looked over her shoulder, he cleared his throat and looked away.

"Don't feel like goin' out."

"Oh," she shrugged. "Well, I guess if you'd like to spend your Saturday evening with me, I'm not going to stop you."

"What's wrong with spendin' the day with you?"

"Nothing," she laughed, serving a slice on each plate before grabbing two beers from the fridge. They sat on barstools across from one another at the kitchen island, and she chuckled after taking her first sip of beer. She'd never cared for beer or hard liquor, but Daryl had introduced her to some local brews that she'd taken a liking to after her divorce. She often joked that being married to Ed was enough to drive her to drink, though in reality, she wasn't much of a drinker.

"What's funny?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied with a grin. "Just that I'm supposed to go with Michonne to the gym tomorrow. She wants to work off a couple more pounds before the wedding. She'd kill me if she knew I was sitting here drinking beer and eating pizza." Daryl smirked at took a bite of pizza. He looked at her again, and she felt her face tingle with warmth. "So, do you guys have your tuxes ready?"

"Yeah. I'll look like a penguin, just like the rest of 'em." Carol grinned at that. "Don't know why they had to go formal when they're gettin' married on a fuckin' yacht." He snorted and sucked down a gulp of beer. "Probably gonna be a hundred degrees. Hope it rains."

"Don't be mean," Carol laughed.

"You ask Tobin to go with you?" Daryl asked.

"What?" Carol asked, nearly spitting out her swig of beer.

"Thought you were gonna ask that Tobin guy. You know, the one that took you to lunch that one day?"

"You mean Tobin, the tech guy from the library?"

"Well, yeah. Thought you were gonna go out with him."

"Daryl, the guy bought Chinese for the whole office. It wasn't like it was candlelight and jazz music." She grinned at the blush on his cheeks. "Did you think I was seeing him?"

"Well, hell, you said somethin' the other night when Christy was over, and I thought maybe you liked him. You said he was funny."

"He's funny in a dad-joke kind of way, but he's not my type." She shook her head. "No, it appears that I'll be going alone."

"Makes two of us," he muttered, taking another bite of pizza. Carol thought back on her earlier conversation with Michonne, and she took a deep breath before strumming her fingers on the counter top. She went to open her mouth, but he spoke first. "Hey, why don't we go?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, we're already goin', but why don't we just go together?"

"I…you…uh, you want to go with me? Like a date?"

"Well, no," he stammered, cheeks brightening as he looked away. "Just sayin', we could ride together and sit together. I mean, we were probably gonna do that anyway, right?"

"Right," she said slowly. Her heart jack-hammered against her ribs. "So we can show up, pathetic and single…together?"

"Sure," he offered with a shrug, getting a little smile out of her.

"Alright," she agreed. He looked up at her, as if he hadn't been expecting that answer. "Being single together sounds better than being single alone." Daryl gave her a grin then before chomping down another bite of pizza.

They continued to eat, and Carol felt herself relax a little. Of course they were going as friends. It was her earlier phone conversation with Michonne that had her feeling so strange. It wasn't that she didn't care for Daryl. Of course she did. He was one of her absolute favorite people in the world. And yes, she'd had feelings for him once upon a time, and yes, she'd found her mind wandering at work from time to time, having harmless fantasies that were certainly sexual in nature, but… _oh_.

She swallowed down the thought with a swig of her cold beer, and she looked over at him, watching as he got up for another beer out of the fridge, making himself right at home. They were that comfortable with one another. And he wasn't interested in her in the least. She was certain of it. If there had ever been romantic or sexual feelings at all on his part, he'd done a damned good job of hiding them. And she'd thought, once upon a time, that maybe there could have been a spark there. She'd tested the waters, even opening herself up to him before her wedding to Ed, expressing her doubts. And he'd been the dutiful best friend that had talked it through with her. Ultimately, he'd never made a move or tried to convince her not to marry Ed, thus convincing her that his feelings were strictly platonic. So, she'd convinced herself that they were simply good friends, nothing more, and marrying Ed had been the right choice at the time. She'd chalked up her feelings to just being afraid of marrying the wrong person and missing out on something better. It wasn't like she'd been in love with Daryl, right?

But, now she was divorced, and Ed was getting ready to marry his mistress, and Carol was enjoying the single life, dating and testing the waters of new relationships, playing the field a little. But, just as she felt Daryl was miserable in every relationship he got himself into, she felt no spark with any of the men she'd dated or brought home. There was no magic, no spark. Sure, there was some good sex from time to time, but it was nothing life-changing, earth-shattering or worthy of continuing.

It was then that she realized that, just as Daryl always ended up at her place for pizza and movies when his relationships went south, she always found herself more excited to call him at the end of the night after a particularly bad date or awkward sexual experience. Ok, so she didn't really call him about the sex stuff, but he was the one she thought about, wanted to talk to when it was all over with.

"You ok over there?" he asked, eyeing her as she sat there in silence with her hand wrapped around her beer bottle.

"Huh?" she asked, taking a deep breath and blinking herself out of her thoughts.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. "I can't eat another bite." She cleared her throat, finished her beer and pushed the stool back, hopping off and moving around to put her plate in the sink. She turned then, nearly smacking right into him when he leaned over to put his own plate in the sink. Her breath caught, and she got a whiff of him, smoke and a hint of cologne, and _damn_ , why did he have to smell so good?

"Sorry," he murmured with a little grin. "You sure you're ok? You're jumpy."

"I am not," she insisted, sliding out from between him and the counter and starting off toward the living room. Then she hollered back at him. "It's my turn to pick the movie."

"Aw, hell," Daryl muttered. "Guess it's time to take Baby outta the corner again."

"I heard that!" she replied, as he shook his head and joined her in the living room. "And it's not _Dirty Dancing_ this time. I can't find it. I'm still convinced you hid it."

"Did not," he snorted, sitting down on the couch and quickly checking under the cushion to see if the DVD was where he left it last time. Yep. He quickly put the cushion back in place, leaning back to throw his arm over the back of the couch as she turned to glare at him.

"Well, _Pretty Woman_ it is."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _Well, this was a bright idea_. Carol was curled up on one side of the couch, while Daryl was spread out with his feet propped on her ottoman. She'd decided on _Pretty Woman,_ mostly for payback for his making her watch some dumbass hunting show the weekend before but partly because she knew all too well that he'd hidden her copy of Dirty Dancing under the cushion between them. But now, as she sipped on a glass of wine and stared ahead at the TV, she was regretting her choice in movies.

Julia Roberts was currently plopping a pillow on the floor and getting on her knees between Richard Gere's legs, and Carol was feeling a little warm, partly from the wine, partly because her conversation with Michonne had all of those secret fantasies she'd had about Daryl pushed to the forefront of her mind. Her blood was simmering beneath the surface of her skin, and her heart was beating a little faster than normal.

She glanced over at him, leaning his head back against the seat, eyes fixated on the movie despite the fact that he hated chick flicks. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down and his fingers twitch anxiously in his lap. The camera panned to Richard Gere's face, leaving everything to the imagination, and Carol felt sweat bead at her temple. She took another sip of wine.

A crack of thunder mercifully interrupted her thought process, and the whole house shook. The screen went blank, leaving them in silence before lightning flashed outside. Moments later, the power came back on.

"Told ya it was gonna rain." Daryl got up from the couch and moved to peer out the window. "Clouds rollin' in are black. It's gonna be a downpour." He chewed his bottom lip, and Carol got up to stand by the window with him.

"Pull your bike into the garage. I'll meet you out there and get the door open." He nodded then and grabbed his keys, heading out the front door and out to the street. Carol hurried down the hall to the kitchen and unlocked the door. She felt for the switch in the dark garage, breathing a sigh of relief when she heard the mechanical whirring, followed by the clatter of the door folding as it came up the track. Daryl revved the engine and brought his bike in, getting drenched in the process as the rain came down in sheets.

"Christ, it's a cold rain." Daryl ducked his head and ran his fingers through his dripping hair.

"Oh, you're soaking wet. Here, let me grab you a towel."

"Shit started comin' down as soon as I got on my bike." He grunted and brought the damp bottom of his shirt up to wipe at his face, giving Carol a brief but delicious view of his stomach, hard and tan with a smattering of hair trailing down into his jeans.

"Come inside. I'll get you a towel. I'm afraid I don't have anything dry in your size."

"S'alright. I'll just throw this shit in the dryer." She eyed him. Was he really suggesting what she thought he was suggesting. She cleared her throat as he kicked off his boots and left them by the garage door in the kitchen. He followed her upstairs and to the bathroom, where she grabbed a fluffy, white, over-sized towel and handed it to him. He stripped off his t-shirt, tossing it in the basket with a heavy plop. His skin was wet and pebbled with goose bumps, and Carol couldn't help but notice the way his muscles seemed to ripple as he stood there, flesh pebbling from the cool rain water.

She forced herself to drag her gaze away and opened up the hall closet.

"Ed might have left a few things when he moved out. Let me check…" She rummaged through the closet, coming out with a pair of black sweat pants. "I bought these for him for Christmas one year, but they got pushed to the back of the closet." She smirked, pulling the tag off of them. "Never worn. They might be a little big, but they have a drawstring, so you should be good." Daryl eyed the garment for a moment before looking back at her.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Take your pants off." The words left her lips before she could stop herself. She laughed nervously when he flinched, and she nodded toward the bathroom. "You, uh, just put them in the basket with your shirt, I mean. I'll give you some privacy." She turned quickly, and Daryl watched her step into her bedroom.

To say he hadn't ever thought of her telling him to take his pants off before would have been a straight up lie. But why did _she_ look so embarrassed, like maybe she'd been thinking things he'd been thinking, too?

He shook the thoughts off, stepping into the bathroom and stripping out of his wet clothes. He was damn all the way down to his underwear. He peeled off the offending garments and slipped into the sweat pants, tugging at the drawstring to make them a little tighter around his hips.

He tossed his pants and underwear and socks in the basket with his wet shirt in the hall, and Carol stepped out of her room, pausing in the doorway when she saw him standing there bare-chested and holding a laundry basket.

"You know, you totally look like every woman's dream right now. Shirtless and doing laundry." She fanned her face, and Daryl snorted.

"Stop."

"Here, I'll just toss these in the wash. If we're going to dry them, we might as well wash them first, otherwise they'll smell like musty rain." She reached for the basket, but Daryl pulled away.

"I can do it," he offered, suddenly feeling very reluctant to let her see his underwear, even if they weren't currently on his body. Carol stepped out of the way, nodding toward the laundry room at the end of the hall. "Who has a washer and dryer upstairs, anyway?"

"The house used to be split into two apartments once upon a time. It was a kitchen, so Ed decided he wanted the laundry room upstairs. Honestly, I think he was just too lazy to walk up and down the stairs." Daryl snorted at that and tossed his clothes into the wash.

Once his clothes were washing, he turned and leaned back against the machine, as Carol took her own laundry out of the dryer. He noticed her quickly shoving something that he figured was a bra under a towel, and he couldn't help but let his gaze wander over her back and the curve of her ass. He knew he didn't have a chance in hell, but it didn't stop him from appreciating the view while he had it.

Carol had literally fell into his life senior year of high school. She'd been new to the school and had gotten lost on her way to home room. Daryl had been sitting on the floor next to his locker in the middle of contemplating whether or not he wanted to skip class, when she'd come around the corner and tripped over his feet, landing right in his lap in the most beautiful way possible, all long limbs and pretty auburn hair sweeping into his face. He remembered the look of horror and embarrassment on her face before she'd gotten up, straightened her shirt and proceeded to lecture him for sitting on the floor where just anybody could fall right over him.

By the end of the day, she was the best friend he'd ever had, and he'd seen her through her share of shitty relationships and bad breakups, and she'd seen him fail miserably at pretending to give a shit each time a relationship went south. In fact, the only time his heart had ever been broken had been the day she'd walked down the aisle and married Ed Peletier.

Hell, she'd even come to him and told him she wasn't sure if she should marry Ed, and what had he done? He'd been the good guy, the best friend, the dutiful pal that had pushed his feelings aside for her sake and talked her into marrying the piece of shit who would eventually cheat on her with another woman.

And over the years, even after she had kicked Ed's ass out, Daryl had never sensed anything from Carol in terms of feeling anything more than friendship. He'd resigned himself to being her best friend, and honestly, if that was all he ever got, he would die a happy man, because she was the only one he really wanted to be around. She was the first person he would call after a date, she was the first person he'd call after a great night with a nice girl, because even after it was all over and he'd dropped his date off at home, _Carol_ was the one he wanted to talk to. It was so easy with her and so damned hard at the same time. He was ashamed to admit how many times he'd come with her name screaming through his head. It was a secret he was sure he'd take to the grave.

When he made it back downstairs, Carol was cleaning up from their pizza lunch.

"Need some help?" She jumped at his voice. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya."

"It's ok," she chuckled. "You wanna finish the movie?" She smiled at the pained look on his face. "Come on, if you pause the movie just right, you can see Julia's nipple in one scene."

"Don't wanna see Julia's nipple."

"Aww, Pookie. Are you pouting?"

"No," he grumbled. She grinned and grabbed another beer out of the fridge for him.

"Here. You drink his, and I'll go find something else for us to do. You like Monopoly or Checkers?"

"Monopoly, just 'cause I like to see ya try not to pout when I buy all the railroads."

"Ooh, somebody's awfully confident."

"I'll kick your ass, Peletier."

"You're on," she laughed. Her nose crinkled when she did so, and honestly all he wanted to do was to cup her face in his hands, back her up against the fridge and kiss the hell out of her. But, she was turning to walk away before he could even muster up the courage to make the move in his fantasy.

She grabbed the game out of the hall closet and put pillows down on the floor. Daryl set the game board up on the coffee table, while Carol poured herself another glass of wine.

"I'll be the thimble."

"Good. I'm the dog," Daryl replied, putting their pieces on the start spot.

"Prepare to have your ass kicked, Dixon."

"That your third glass of line, Peletier? Pretty sure I can hold my own."

"Ha," Carol snorted. "You wish." She winked. She fucking winked. _What the hell was that? You're flirting? Stop drinking. Stop drinking, now!_ Despite her moment of panic, Daryl just grinned at her. Clearly, he didn't mind, but she still felt like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

...

"No," she groaned, resting her head on the coffee table. "You didn't."

"Did."

"Best two out of three?" she offered with a hopeful smile.

"Nope," he replied. "Fork it over."

"You realize you can't buy anything with this, right?" she asked, frowning as she handed over the multicolored Monopoly money.

"Can't buy nothin' but braggin' rights." He took the play money from her with a smirk.

"Ugh." She pushed the game board away and drank down the last of the wine in her glass.

"You polished off that whole bottle on your own."

"I did?" she asked, grabbing the bottle and bringing it to her lips. Only a drop fell out upon her tongue. "It was good." She yawned when the machine buzzed upstairs. Between turns, Daryl had gone up to throw his clean clothes into the dryer, and now, she figured, he'd be getting ready to leave. Only, she really didn't want him to leave. "Hey, you can crash here tonight if you want. I mean, it's getting late, and it's still raining pretty hard. Plus, you had a few beers. I'd feel better if you stayed."

"You ramble when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk. I'm buzzed, and it feels good." She laughed then, standing and nearly tripping over the table. "I might be a little drunk. But so are you with all that beer."

"Nah, I paced myself. You just got thirsty." Carol grinned at him. "Sit tight. I'll be back. Don't follow me, 'cause I don't wanna have to come pick your ass up off the floor when you fall down the stairs."

"My hero," she teased, pulling herself up off the floor and flopping back on the couch. She closed her eyes and felt as if she were riding gentle waves over the ocean surface. She knew that was a pretty clear indicator that she was done drinking for the night, and she even began to drift off before she heard his voice and opened her eyes to see him leaning over her. She gasped softly.

"Clothes are dry. It's rainin' harder out there." A rumble of thunder seemed to strengthen his words. "If you're still offerin', I might crash here 'til the storm passes. You ok with that?" She couldn't get past the fact that he was still wearing nothing but those sweat pants, and damn, how had she not noticed the V of his hips before as those pants hung low and loosely off of him.

"You're pretty," she giggled, reaching up to pat his face.

"Least you drank the beer before the wine, or else you'd probably be hangin' your head over the toilet right now."

"So romantic." She laughed at her own words, and Daryl shook his head. "What time is it?"

"Goin' on seven."

"I wanna finish the movie," she pouted.

"Alright. Let's finish the movie, and then we'll go to bed."

"Thought you'd never ask," she teased, moving her hand up to brush across his stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath as she explored his stomach, and damn it, it was enough to have him stirring in his pants.

"You're also handsy when you been drinkin'." He stepped back out of her reach, and she giggled, covering her face with her hands. She sat up then, sobering her laughter as he turned on the movie to finish it.

"Thanks for coming over today. I needed a Daryl day."

"Daryl day?"

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily. "They're my favorite days." She smiled at him and he sat down beside her. She stared at him for a moment until he looked at her. "I'm sorry about your breakup."

"I ain't," he muttered, blushing at the way she was looking at him. He knew she was drunk, that she got flirty when she was drunk, and he was also feeling his own buzz a little bit. It still didn't stop the blood from simmering under his skin or his heart from beating a little bit faster. "We gonna watch the movie?"

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily, curling up against his side. He pulled his arm around her and propped his feet up as she curled her legs under her. He gently squeezed her shoulder. It felt good to hold her, and this wasn't the first time she had curled up against him. She knew she could rely on him, and he knew he'd always be there for her. It was who they were. He couldn't help that he wanted that.

She sighed against him, and he chuckled.

"You gonna fall asleep on me?"

"Maybe," she murmured sleepily. "You still gonna be here when I wake up."

"Yep," he murmured, pulling her a little closer.

"Good. Don't go away. I like it when you're here," she murmured with a sleepy smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He held his breath, letting it out slowly when she put her head down on his shoulder. He pushed play on the remote and tried to let the movie distract him from the thoughts running through his head. But he was done for. There was no saving him from his thoughts. So, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back and let himself drift off along with her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Carol moaned softly as she stirred from her sleep. The urgent sensation in her bladder was always a nuisance in the morning, but after all the wine she'd had, she'd been expecting it. Still, she hadn't quite been expecting to feel as if she was still on a boat in the middle of the ocean, the gentle rise and fall as the waves rocked her in her slumber. _Am I still drunk_? The stinging sensation became more urgent, and she realized she was incredibly warm. And then her other senses came to life, and she realized she was lying against a very warm, very firm, very sleepy body, and somehow, in the night, she'd pretty much crawled on top of him, and he'd draped one muscular arm around her waist. _Well, this is new._

She bit her lip, cracking one eye open and peeking at him. His head was resting back against the arm of the couch, and he was still, save for the gentle rise and fall of his breath. She took a moment to admire him at the most relaxed she'd ever seen him. There was no tension, just peace. He was calm and relaxed, and she honestly didn't even want to move for fear of waking him.

But the urgency of her bladder won out, and she slowly started to slide off of him, being careful not to jostle him too much. But in her easy shifting, she discovered that his body wasn't the only thing that was firm, and she bit back a gasp when her knee brushed over the obvious hard on. She knew men got morning wood. It was natural. But to be pressed up against him while he had it was a whole other situation that part of her was not ready for, while one very specific part of her responded with a resounding throb at the thought of him in that state.

 _Abort. Abort. Run like the wind._

Carol quickly scrambled off of him, accidentally brushing against his junk in the process, and when Daryl woke with a grunt, Carol's eyes went wide, and she sprinted toward the bathroom before he could even open his eyes.

When she finally came out of the bathroom, Daryl was sitting on the edge of the couch with the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes, rubbing tiredly. Carol cleared her throat, and he jumped, grabbing for a pillow to not-so-casually plop into his lap.

"Morning," she offered with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I had to pee."

"S'alright. I, uh, yeah, me too." He grunted then, clearing his throat, and Carol could see the internal conflict. Get up and walk to the bathroom sporting a major stiffie or sit there and wait for it to pass. She figured she'd have mercy on him and leave the room so he could make the walk to the bathroom without embarrassment.

"I'll make some coffee," she offered with a smile, making a beeline for the kitchen. She heard the springs on the couch squeak as Daryl got up, and she bit her lip, unable to suppress a giggle as she grabbed for the coffee and busied herself while Daryl took care of business in the bathroom.

She decided to whip up a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon with buttered toast, and by the time she was splitting the food between two plates, Daryl came walking in, dressed and ready for the day, though his hair was still wild and messy. She grinned at the sight and poured two cups of coffee.

"Smells good."

"It's good hangover food." She reached for a bottle of aspirin and took a couple, extending the bottle out to him. He shook his head.

"I'm good." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, I ain't the one that drank the whole bottle of wine last night, lightweight." He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes, taking a forkful of fluffy yellow eggs. She was just grateful things hadn't gotten weird this morning.

"You have plans today?" she asked, as Daryl dove right in to eating his bacon.

"Huh, yeah. Gotta take Merle to meet with his parole officer."

"Why do you have to do that? What about his girlfriend?"

"Andrea's had about enough of his shit as I have, but I'm blood, so I guess that makes me it."

"Oh. Well, I'm going to pick up my dress with Michonne. Want me to pick up your tie, too?" Daryl thought for a moment before reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Givin' you money for the tie."

"No, I'll get it. It's the least I can do after you agreed to be my date. You're doing me a favor."

"Thought you were doin' me a favor," he offered. "Thought it was a pity date."

"Oh, shut up," Carol snorted. "You date way more than I do. If anybody needs a pity date, it's me."

"Nah, you turn heads every time we go to the bar."

"Oh, bestill my heart. Drunks are crazy about me."

"Hey, it ain't just there. Trust me," he grunted, sipping his coffee and using his fork to spear at the fluffy white egg on his plate. Carol eyed him for a moment, wondering if he'd continue, but the reddening tips of his ears gave away that he probably thought he'd said too much.

"Continue," she teased.

"Well, you know what I mean."

"What _do_ you mean?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and he watched the grin spread over her face. Carol certainly wasn't one who went fishing for compliments, so he knew she was just teasing, but he also knew that if he continued, he'd tell her how gorgeous she was, how when the light hit her eyes, they sparkled like blue diamonds. He'd tell her how he'd imagined her riding him, her hair slick and damp as beads of sweat trailed between her breasts. He'd tell her how she had the sexiest ass he'd ever seen, and he wanted more than anything to feel it in his hands as she slid up and down his dick.

He nearly choked on his breakfast at that last image, and Carol's eyes widened.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," he muttered, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Look, I bet once we get to that wedding, you'll find somebody. Maybe one of Rick's cop friends. Or maybe one of the governor's rich prick judge friends." Carol made a face at that. Being the Sheriff and the nephew of a senator, the city was making a spectacle of Rick's wedding, paying for all guests to fly down to Florida for a big yacht wedding. The governor himself, Phillip Blake, would be in attendance, as would many of state's government officials. The understatement of the year was Rick calling it a shindig. Despite his political family and his current position as King County Sheriff, Rick Grimes was anything but the big, white wedding kind of man. He was happiest to relax with a beer on the side of a creek with a fishing pole in his hand. But, his mother had convinced him to go along with it, considering her brother was the one offering to pay for the whole thing. There were perks to being the favorite nephew.

"Yeah," Carol snorted. "I'm sure that'll happen."

"Why not?" Daryl asked, taking another sip of coffee. "Any guy'd be lucky to have you."

"Oh, just wait until the girls get a load of you all cleaned up in your tux. You'll be beating them off with a stick." She grinned. "Well, maybe not when they strip down to their bikinis."

"Pfft," Daryl snorted. "Yeah, m'sure."

They finished breakfast, laughing and talking like always until Daryl realized it was time to head off to pick up Merle. When he was gone, Carol closed the door and leaned back against it, already feeling lonesome without him.

Why did Michonne have to bring it up? Why had she tried to push the idea of it? Carol groaned and pushing off from the door, heading upstairs to get ready for a shower. She decided she was just going to push the thought right out of her mind. It was silly to think that after all these years, Daryl would want anything more than friendship. Just because she was letting the embers of old feelings rekindle didn't mean a thing. Not a thing. And she was going to give Michonne a piece of her mind for the power of her suggestions. *

...

"Whoa, what are you running from?" Michonne asked, wiping her forehead with a towel as she stopped pedaling her exercise bike. Carol was leaning over the handlebars of hers, pedaling furiously. "I think you left three pounds on the floor back there." Carol turned to glare at her. "Whoa. Hey, what's up?" Carol's shoulders slumped, and she slowed to a stop, grabbing a towel and wiping her face with it.

"You. You had to go and say it, didn't you?"

"Say what?" Michonne asked, grabbing her water bottle and taking a pull off of it.

"Oh, forget it," Carol huffed, grabbing her water bottle and taking a long swig.

"Ok, are you mad at me or mad at yourself, because I can't tell."

"Oh, it's not you. I'm just…" She sighed. "Daryl stayed over last night."

"Oh," Michonne murmured, raising an eyebrow. "So, what happened?"

"He came over, we ate pizza, we started a movie, it stormed, he got soaked, he ended up lounging around my place in nothing but a pair of sweat pants, and then we got stupid drunk. Ok, _I_ got stupid drunk. We played Monopoly, finished watching a movie and fell asleep on the couch together."

"Ok, so that's it?"

"Well, then this morning, I was laying on top of him, and he was…well, you know how guys get in the morning." Michonne looked lost for a moment, before Carol arched an eyebrow.

"Oh. Ok, I'm back on track. So?"

"So, I ran off."

"You…ran off."

"Well, I had to pee. And when I got back, he was still having his…you know, predicament, and so he went off to do his thing."

"And you didn't offer to help him?" Michonne asked, stone-faced.

"Michonne!" Her friend burst out in a laugh.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. So? That's it?"

"Well, I have a date to your wedding now. We're going alone together."

"Alone…together?"

"Mmm." Carol hopped off the exercise bike and draped her towel over her shoulder. Michonne followed suit, and they headed for the locker room.

"So, what does that mean?"

"We're going as friends."

"Even after you played drunk Monopoly and fell asleep together?"

"Yeah, I'd hardly call that a step forward in our relationship."

"So you're thinking about it?" Michonne asked with a grin. "I knew it!"

"Oh, shush. Look, it doesn't matter."

"What? Because he's got a girlfriend?"

"Uh…actually…he doesn't. They broke up."

"Oh? And is he broken up about it?"

"Well, no."

"Was he in a good mood at your place?"

"Yeah. But, Mich, that doesn't mean anything. We've been friends forever. I'm just…you know, I'm the one he goes to talk to when he doesn't have anybody else."

"You think that's all he sees in you?" Michonne asked as they pushed through the swinging doors and headed for their rented lockers.

"Look, I told you before. Daryl's not a relationship guy. He dates, but he gets restless, and then he's done, and he's happy when it's over. That doesn't have anything to do with me." Michonne watched as Carol reached for her gym bag out of her locker.

"You're afraid," Michonne noted.

"What?"

"You're afraid that that's exactly what would happen to you. You're afraid he'd get restless and move on."

"I'm not!"

"Look," Michonne encouraged, "Daryl's a good guy. He might suck at relationships, but that's probably because he's dating the wrong women. He doesn't strike me as a cheater. He doesn't strike me as an asshole. At least not when it comes to women. So, maybe the only reason he's getting restless in relationships is because he knows he's not dating the right woman. And Carol, trust me, I've seen the way he looks at you. I've never seen him look at another woman like that before."

"Stop," Carol murmured. "I can't."

"Ok. I won't say anything else," Michonne shrugged. "But if you ask me, I think you're dead wrong if you think he doesn't want you. Dead wrong."

"Thought you weren't saying anything else."

"I'm done." Michonne made a zipping motion across her lips, and Carol pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Promise."

"Thank you," Carol murmured before turning and heading for the showers.

"Ok, one more thing." Carol stopped and turned.

"Oh God," Carol muttered. "Ok, what?"

"Why don't you try going on a date with him?"

"What? You want me to ask him out?"

"Just suggest doing something. Just the two of you."

"We do stuff, just the two of us, all the time."

"Well, why don't you text him and ask him to go grab a beer with you. Just be light and a little flirty."

"You clearly don't know me very well, do you? I'm always teasing him."

"No, but keep it up. See where it goes. Maybe something happens. Maybe it doesn't."

"But then I'll know," Carol said quietly.

"Then you'll know."

...

He wasn't exactly proud of it. The second he'd gotten home from dropping Merle off after his appointment, he'd hit the showers again, taking his time, leaning into the stream as thoughts of her filled his head. He could still smell her cinnamon vanilla lotion and the sweet, floral scent on her hair. He could feel her, soft in all the right places, pressed up against him. It hadn't taken much thought at all to have his dick stirring once again.

He'd woken at three in the morning sprawled out with her lying on top of him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, and he hadn't had the heart to wake her. In fact, holding her felt too damned good, and he wasn't about to give it up.

Only, his body had betrayed him that morning, and he'd spent fifteen minutes desperately trying to get rid of his erection. He wasn't proud of it, but it had to be done.

And as he stood in the shower and wrapped his hand around his aching cock, he couldn't get her face out of his mind. That smile. Those eyes. And then his thoughts moved lower, over her freckled collarbones, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips. He imagined digging his fingers into her hips and tugging her closer, pulling her against him.

He groaned, stroking a little faster as he pressed his forehead against the shower wall. It didn't take long, just the thought of slipping inside of her, hot and wet, and he was done, spilling over his hand as the shower stream rinsed the evidence down the drain.

He quickly finished up his shower, trying not to feel too dirty for thinking about his best friend like that, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't the first time, and he knew it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

After he was showered and dressed, he grabbed his cell phone off of his night stand. To say he was thrilled to see a text from her would have been an understatement.

 _Hey. I got my dress and your tie. They match perfectly._ _It only took two hours, so you'd better be grateful!_

He smirked and chuckled to himself. Of course it would take her two hours to pick out a tie to match her dress.

 _Thanks. You wanna stop by later and try it on?_

He groaned as soon as he hit send.

 _I mean, I can try it on._

 _Well, here I was thinking you were suggesting something sexy._

His gut tightened, and he groaned at the thought of her wearing nothing but a silk tie. Christ, what was she doing to him?

 _Well, you might get a little cold. Got the AC cranked up._

Why? Why was he so fucking bad at this? Of course she was just teasing. She wasn't serious.

 _Well, I stayed plenty warm last night._

"What?" he muttered aloud. The phone pinged again. Another message from her.

 _You have plans tonight?_

 _Nah. You?_

 _Nope. Just took my dress home to hang up. I can swing by and drop your tie off if you want. Maybe we can go down to Axel's for a beer. I promise I won't get drunk this time. ;) Or maybe I will. We can see where the night takes us._

He narrowed his eyes and glanced at the phone.

 _Sounds good. Want me to swing by on my bike?_

 _Yeah. Sounds great._

 _Pick you up about six?_

 _I'll be ready. ;)_

There it was again. That fucking winky face that seemed to stare at him. Judging him. Asking him why he was such a fucking coward. Then again, this was just Carol. They teased each other. They flirted sometimes. It was nothing more than good fun. Part of him was relieved that things were good, despite the unfortunate boner incident that morning. The other part of him was frustrated that he couldn't just grow a pair and tell her how he felt. But, was it worth jeopardizing years of friendship just so he could stop driving himself crazy?

Just as he was about to put his phone down again, it pinged. He quickly checked his messages.

 _Hey. Instead of Axel's, why don't we just take a ride by the lake? I could use some fresh air, and beer's probably not a good idea tonight._

An hour of her pressed up against him from behind on the bike? Yeah, that was his own personal brand of hell. It wasn't that he didn't love riding with her. It was that riding with her was so damned distracting, especially when her thighs clenched around his and the heat radiating from between her legs made his back sweat. Jesus, he was already getting hard just thinking about it.

 _Alright. See you in a bit._

"Fuck me," Daryl muttered under his breath, tossing his phone onto the bed. It was going to be a long night, and he knew they'd be lucky if he managed to stay focused and not distracted by everything about her that he absolutely loved. If he managed to get her home without crashing, it would be a miracle.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The wind coming off of the lake was cold and whipped around them as they sped down the country road. Carol held tight around him, fingers digging into his sides, thighs squeezing around him. The growl of the engine shook the bike, creating sensations she knew she shouldn't be feeling on a motorcycle, but she couldn't help her body's response to it.

Daryl took a wide curve, and Carol held on a little tighter. He couldn't help the way his body responded to her hands gripping his sides. Once in a while, her hand would brush over his thigh when it slipped, and he would feel sparks shooting up and down his spine. Having her so damned close, having her thighs tight around his was like worlds colliding. Paradise and hell, all wrapped into one. The fire that forked through his veins was on the verge of raging, but thankfully, the cool breeze off the lake helped a little.

Daryl pulled into a small park on the river side, stopping in the gravel and cutting the engine. Carol recognized the place immediately. It was the place she'd crashed his bike into the swing set the one time he'd let her try to ride. That felt like a lifetime ago. It was, really. They'd still been in high school. It had been the first and last time she'd ridden that bike alone, and she'd refused to ride it again unless he was in control.

"Very funny," she laughed, as she pulled her helmet off. "I think the ground is still torn up over there."

"You weren't bad."

"I wasn't good," she laughed. There was a small dock built out over the water. Carol started for it, remembering carving her initials into the wood, making her mark, as if crashing and burning on Daryl's motorcycle hadn't made enough of a lasting memory.

When Daryl saw her heading toward the dock, he suddenly remembered, quite vividly, why he needed her to not walk over there. "Uh. Hey. You wanna get outta here?"

"Daryl, we just stopped." She turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Look, the sun's setting. It's so pretty. Let's go watch." She waved him after her, and he started to sweat.

 _Fuck. Stall her. Anything. Christ, find your balls and sweep her off her feet or something. Just don't let her on that dock._

"Wait. That wood's older'n we are. Ain't safe."

"Well, it looks sturdy enough." She laughed and picked up the pace. He had no choice but to follow, cringing every step of the way.

 _Maybe it ain't there. It's been damn near 15 years._

He wanted to think that the elements would have somehow faded the carvings in the dock, but he also knew how deeply his daddy's old hunting knife could carve into wood. Maybe she'd forget where it was. That was his best hope.

"Oh, look," she murmured, sitting down and swinging her legs over the dock. She pulled her boots and socks off and dipped her toes into the cool water. "It's just like I remember, except my knee isn't bleeding everywhere." She still had the scar from where she'd fallen from the motorcycle. It had faded over the years, but it was still there.

Daryl scanned his memories, helplessly trying to remember where she'd made the carving at, where he'd come back days later to add to it, but he couldn't. Instead, he plopped down next to her on the dock with the fleeting hope that he would cover it or that she wouldn't remember where to look. Maybe she didn't remember at all.

"Remember when I carved my initials in the dock the day I crashed and burned?"

 _Fuck_.

"Huh…" His tongue felt like it was swelling. Was his throat closing up?

"I remember." She glanced around. "I think it was over…yeah! Over here." She scrambled over and crossed to the other side of the narrow dock.

 _God, I ain't never asked you for nothin', but I'm hopin' you're takin' requests right now. A lightning bolt oughta do it. Make it quick. I lived a good life._

"Daryl, look. It's still here!"

 _Thanks for nothin'._

"C.M." She furrowed her brows and squinted. The fading light made it difficult to see. "What's this?"

"Nothin'. Probably somebody else's carving. They're all over this dock. Surprised it ain't fallen apart yet."

"No, wait. This is…" She grabbed for her cell phone and turned on her flashlight app.

 _'Course she's gonna investigate._

"C.M. plus D.D." She glanced up at him. "Daryl?"

"Huh…you sure that's where you carved it?"

"Yeah, I'm positive," she replied, eyeing him as the flush filled his cheeks. Even in the fading light, she could see him blushing. "Did you do this?"

"Hell, it's been a long time. I don't…"

"Daryl?"

"Fuck, I did it, alright? Long time ago, you know?"

"Aw," she pouted. "You had a crush on me?" If Daryl's heart could have beat out of his chest and flopped around on the dock like a fish out of water in that moment, it would have. He looked at her before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Like I said," he muttered. "It was a long time ago. You know?"

 _Don't be such a pussy. Just tell her._

"When?"

"Carved it the night we graduated," he said quietly. "A lot's happened since then."

"Yeah," she said softly. "Wow." She smiled a little and leaned in, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Just so you know? I liked you, too."

 _Holy shit._

The way she was looking at him in that moment made the 18-year-old inside of him do a happy dance, while the 43-year-old blushed like a twelve year old who'd just gotten his first kiss.

"Daryl…" She was leaning in, and he wasn't sure if she was going to kiss him or whisper something to him, but he shifted nervously, and the dock groaned beneath them. After a mighty loud crack, it shook and collapsed, leaving them to tumble right into the water. "Oh!"

"Shit," Daryl spat, groaning as the water filled his boots and soaked him straight to the skin. He stood quickly, reaching for her hand to help her stand. She coughed, wiping at her face, blinking in surprise as the cool water plastered her clothes to her skin.

"Ugh," she coughed, before looking up at Daryl and laughing as his long hair hung in his eyes in wet, dark strands. "You need a…a haircut."

"What's so damned funny," he growled, as Carol's giggles turned into silent guffaws. She clutched her sides, doubling over as they sloshed through the water and pulled themselves onto dry land.

"We're a mess," she laughed when she found her breath again.

"We best sit here a minute. We get on that bike, we're both gonna have pneumonia 'fore we get you home."

"If you wanted to get me wet, there are much better ways than this," she teased, brushing her hand over his as they collapsed into the grass together. For a moment, the air left his lungs.

"Stop," was all he could muster. But he didn't want her to stop. In fact, he very much wanted her to keep going and in the most elaborate detail possible. But she laughed and covered her face with her hands.

"I feel like a drowned rat."

"Ya look like one, too."

"Says you with the long hair," she smirked. "I can't believe you never told me."

"You never told me."

"Well, that's different."

"Why? 'Cause you're the woman?"

"No," she laughed. "I guess I was just waiting for you to make the first move. Guess we both waited too long."

"Sorry 'bout that," he muttered.

"Yeah," she murmured, biting her bottom lip. "Me too." Thunder broke the silence between them moments later, and Daryl groaned. "You didn't see that one coming, Mr. 'it's gonna rain outta nowhere in an hour or two?'" He glared at her but couldn't hold back a chuckle when she crinkled her nose and grinned at him.

"C'mon. We best get back." He stood first before helping her to her feet and shrugging off his jacket. "Wear this. It's gonna be a cold ride home."

"What about you?"

"I'm good. Ain't the first time I rode soakin' wet." Somehow, that imagine had her more turned on than she would have liked. But she slid her arms into the damp jacket and zipped it up. She groaned when she swiped her finger across the screen of her phone. "Your phone alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. It will be when it dries out."

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm good," she promised, sliding onto the bike behind him and wrapping her arms around her waist. Despite falling into the lake and nearly ruining her cell phone, this night was getting better and better.

...

Carol was shivering by the time Daryl pulled up outside her place. They walked up the sidewalk together, and he stood by as she unlocked the door.

"You wanna come in and get dried off?" she asked, between chattering teeth. He chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah, I better get home. Might have to pull some hours at the shop tomorrow since I'm takin' off for the wedding."

"Oh," Carol said with a nod. "Ok. Well, I had fun tonight." Daryl smirked.

"When? When ya fell in the lake or when ya had to freeze yer ass off on the ride home?"

"Both, actually," she laughed. "Besides, I wasn't cold until we got here. I was warm and toasty all pressed up against you." Daryl reached out and ran his hand over her short, damp hair. She laughed and brushed her own hand over it. Then she eyed him and went for it. "You know, as far as dates go, I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

"Date?" he choked out. "That what this was?"

"Well, we could say it's the date that we never got when we wanted it. We owed it to our teenaged selves."

"Yeah." He grinned at that and licked his lips.

 _That was definitely an opening. She gave you an opening. Go for it. Don't think it to death. Say somethin' but don't fuck it up."_

"That mean there's a goodnight kiss?" he asked, catching her gaze, trying to read her. Her eyes went wide for a brief moment, and her breath caught in her throat. This was probably a terrible idea, but damn it, if she was ever going to know what it was like to feel his lips against hers, this was it. This was the moment.

She stepped up to him, bringing her hands to either side of his face, urging him to come down to meet her. He leaned in a little, and she pressed her lips against his in a soft, warm, inviting kiss. Her hands gently moved down to his shoulders and then up to his neck, feeling his pulse pick up beneath her fingertips.

She pulled back the moment she felt his tongue slide against her lips. She shivered, partially from the cold, partially from the sensations currently raging through her nerves and straight to her core.

"Goodnight," she whispered, eyeing him for a moment, before his lips were on hers again, and he was backing her up against the door. Oh, God, he felt so good against her. His hands were holding her face, and her hands were gently tugging at his hair, and his tongue was in her mouth, and it was everything—more—than she had ever expected.

And then reality came crashing back in the form of a clap of thunder overhead. Carol gently pushed on Daryl's chest, coming up breathless and wide-eyed, lips parted and almost swollen from his hungry kiss. She cleared her throat, and Daryl rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I should…uh…I should go."

"Hey, wait," she called when he turned. "Hey, look at me." He turned to meet her gaze. "18-year-old me had a very good time tonight." Daryl blushed, and he ducked his head a little. "Are we ok?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "'Course we are."

"Go get dry. And get a haircut. You look like a swamp monster," she teased.

"Yeah? Well, who's bright idea was it to go on that dock anyway?" he shot back. She laughed then, feeling lighter than air. "Get some sleep. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Of course." She watched him go back to his bike, hop on and take off down the street before she even made it in the door. Once inside, she stood there, leaning against the door and closing her eyes, putting her hand to her chest to feel her heart pounding there, strong and bold. She didn't know exactly what happened, but she felt a sense of peace, as if something had been settled between them, something neither of them had known or expected. Whatever happened next, she felt like she'd had some closure, though a part of her deeply regretted that neither one of them had made a move way back then when they'd both wanted each other at the same time.

But that kiss tonight. Oh, she sure felt wanted. She'd seen him kiss other woman, and she always thought he'd be a good kisser. But that kiss had exceeded any and all expectations, and she'd wanted so much more, which was why she'd had to stop him. If she hadn't, she could have easily let it get out of control, let them move past the point of no return. And she wasn't even entirely certain that was what he wanted. Did she even want it? Who was she kidding? Of course she did. But above all else, she wanted her friend and didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the close relationship they'd built. The idea of something going wrong and her losing him as a friend was far too painful to even think about.

When she slipped into a hot bath a few minutes later and rested her head against the back of the tub, she let the water sooth her and warm her and wash away the grime from the lake. But her nerves were still on edge, her blood still sizzling, her core still aching for far more than that fantastic kiss.

With a sigh, she resigned herself to taking care of her needs alone, but he was never far from her mind, and the moment his lips crashed into hers replayed on a constant loop in her mind.

...

"God, what happened to you?" Tara asked, taking off her sunglasses when Carol opened the front door. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her nose was red from sneezing and blowing, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

"I enjoyed something I should have enjoyed fifteen years ago, and I ended up falling in a lake."

"Huh?" Tara asked, stepping into Carol's house, removing a big bowl of chicken noodle soup from the tote she had slung over her arm. Carol sneezed. "I should have brought a bigger bowl."

"It's fine. Thank you, sweetie."

"Hey, anytime. You gonna be ok?"

"Oh, I've sneezed enough for ten lifetimes, but other than that, I'll survive."

"Ok, so what happened?" Tara asked, following her friend into the kitchen. "I got a weird text from Michonne saying she couldn't pick up my dress, because they need to make adjustments to the bust."

"Yeah," Carol chuckled. "They need to bring the chest in a bit. The dress looks like it was made for Pamela Anderson."

"Oh," Tara snorted, looking down at her decent B-cups. "Well, Pamela I'm not. You think it'll be done before we leave?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about it, honey. It'll be done."

"I hope so. I finally got a date, and I want to look hot."

"Oh, who's going with you?"

"Rosita."

"Rosita from your office?"

"That's the one," Tara said proudly.

"I thought she had a boyfriend. Spencer or something?"

"Oh, she did have a boyfriend, but she's single, and she's definitely ready to mingle."

"Oh…oh!"

"Yeah. Lucky for me, she also likes chicks. _This_ chick is very happy."

"Well, good! I'm glad."

"So, Michonne also says Daryl's going to be your date?"

"No. No! We're going alone together."

"Ok…so you're going together."

"Alone…together."

"Ok, that makes no sense whatsoever." Carol grabbed a spoon and dug into the best chicken noodle soup she'd ever had. Tara had not been lying when she said that the only thing she could cook worth a damn from scratch was a kickass chicken noodle soup. "So, are you guys going to hook up, or what?"

"Tara," Carol groaned. "Look, things are…weird right now."

"Weird how?"

"Well, do you want the short version or the long one?"

"Long. And detailed, please."

"Well, it's Michonne's fault, and you can tell her I told you that." Carol pointed her spoon at her friend for emphasis. "She suggested I maybe try to start something with Daryl. She suggested flirting."

"A.K.A. what you guys always do. I mean, between all the eye fucking and the constant teasing, I'm surprised you two haven't had hot, wild animal sex on the back of his motorcycle yet." Carol glared at her. "Um, but, you continue your story."

"Anyway, I suggested we go for a ride on the bike."

"Yeah, that's always a good time."

"Well, he pulled over at this park that we haven't been to since we were, God, eighteen." She still couldn't believe it had been so long. "Once upon a time, I crashed and burned on his motorcycle when he was trying to teach me to ride. I carved my name into the dock. So, naturally, I wanted to go see if it was still there."

"And…?"

"It was there. Along with some additions made by Daryl himself. Turns out, he had a huge crush on me in high school."

"And this surprises you?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he never said anything. I never knew…"

"And you had a raging crush on him, too?"

"Yeah," Carol chuckled.

"And that never really went away."

"Well, that's not really fair. We've grown up a lot since then. It just never happened between us. We're different people now."

"Different people who look at each other like a starving man looks at a pizza." Tara watched Carol take another bite of soup. "Ok, so what happened?"

"Well, he admitted that he liked me in high school, and I admitted that I liked him, too. And then I don't know what came over me. I wanted to kiss him, and I was just leaning in when the dock came down."

"Oh God," Tara snorted. "Talk about ruining the mood."

"It was funny. We had so much fun, Tara. And when we got back to my place, we were soaking wet, and we were playing around, and I told him it felt like the date we never got to have. And then we kissed."

"Holy shit. No way!"

"Yeah. And I pulled back and told him goodnight, and then he kissed me again, and oh God, Tara, it was so good. It was…it just felt so right. And all of these feelings just came flooding back. They've been here, all along, simmering under the surface, but hand to God, Tara, I wanted to rip his clothes off right then and there."

"I need a cigarette," Tara murmured fanning herself.

"But I stopped things. I just…I had to."

"Why?" Tara groaned. "You were so close! You haven't had good sex in so long. All that pent up sexual tension needs to go somewhere." Carol stared at her in exasperation, but then her shoulders slumped.

"I don't know where this leaves us. I guess we kind of played it off as a one-off thing, something we should have done a long time ago when we were both in that place."

"So, what was the kiss for you? A one-off, or do you want more?" Carol looked at her helplessly before covering her face with her hands. "Alright, then what about him? Did it feel like he wanted more?"

"I don't know. I really don't…he said it was a long time ago, and it was. And I don't know how he feels about me now. You and Michonne are always going on about how you see something here, but I don't know if I see it or not. I want to see it. I want to believe that there could be something here, but I don't want to ruin everything we've built. He's my best friend."

"Hey, I get it," Tara said quietly. "I do. But you also love the shit out of this guy, and he pretty much adores you."

"Look, maybe this was it. Maybe this was the closure I needed. Maybe I can finally make peace with what never happened and move on."

"Why the hell would you do that? Why didn't you stop him from leaving? Are you kidding me? You guys are so fucking clueless."

"Thanks, Tara," Carol scowled.

"Do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Call him. Just…call him and say hi."

"What's that going to do?"

"He needs to know that you're not freaked out. And you need to know that you guys are ok. And then you can casually hint that you'd like to do something."

"Do what?"

"I don't know. Go for coffee, take a walk, have sex in a public bathroom."

"You're warped."

"And you love me for it," Tara replied, batting her eyelashes. Carol couldn't help but laugh. Tara always knew how to simplify things and lighten the mood. Those were just two of the many qualities Carol loved about her. "Ok, how about this?"

"I'm listening."

"Take a breather. Don't stress it. Just hang out and do what you guys do. Watch movies, drink, whatever else comes to mind. It'll be just like normal. And then when you're on the yacht…"

"You mean on the big boat with no chance for him to escape? No, Tara. I'm not going to corner him. Look, whatever happens, I still have my best friend, and that's all I can ask for." She shrugged and took another spoonful of soup. Tara sighed and shook her head.

"You two are ridiculous."

"Maybe," Carol chuckled.

"All I can say is that I can only hope one day somebody looks at me like Daryl looks at you. That's love. You might not know it. You might not see it. But it's love, and nothing's going to convince me otherwise."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _Did you have to work today?_

 _Nah. Cheap bastards didn't want to have to pay overtime._

 _Aw, I'm sorry. You want to come over?_

She chewed her lip and waited for his response. It never came. Instead, the phone began to ring, and she realized he was calling her.

"You're calling me?" she asked teasingly.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Got a problem with it?"

"Well, no. What's up?"

"I been thinkin'." Carol felt her heart start to pulse a little faster. Her breath caught for a moment, and she sat down on the edge of her bed.

"About what?" She tried to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies doing acrobats in her stomach.

"You alright? Your voice sounds weird."

"Uh, I caught a cold last night," she admitted. "But I'm on the mend. Tara brought me chicken noodle soup, and I've been downing cold meds like clockwork."

"Oh," he muttered. "M'sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" she laughed. "It was my dumb idea to go out on that dock. If I hadn't tried to kiss you…"

"You were tryin' to kiss me?" he asked, his voice light, amused.

"Well, when a man tells you that he had a secret crush on you when you had a secret crush on him, it's kind of romantic. I don't care if it was fifteen years ago. It was sweet, and I wanted to kiss you." She chewed her bottom lip. "It was a long time ago. That's all it was, right? Just the past catching up with us?" He was silent for a moment.

"Yeah," he murmured, sounding a bit defeated but trying to keep his voice even. "If that…I…well, you know…" He grunted in frustration. "Sorry. Feel like it's my fault."

"Why? I'm the one that kissed you."

"I'm the one that brought it up. It was stupid."

"Stupid?" she asked.

"Well, shit. You know what I mean. I…I wasn't thinkin'. Got caught up in the past and let it get away from me."

Carol's heart sank.

"Oh," she said softly.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

 _What the hell does that even mean?_

"No. No wrong ideas gotten. It was a moment we both got caught up in."

"You're my best friend," Daryl added. "Don't wanna lose that. It's my fault I didn't make a move when I should've. But we ain't…in that place. Are we?"

"Are you?" Carol asked quietly. He hesitated. She didn't let him answer. "Well, then I'd say we have nothing to talk about. Now get over here and bring me some hot and sour soup from that Chinese place on the corner of 12th and Markle."

"And?" She grinned. He knew her so well.

"And an order of Empress Chicken with a side of pork fried rice."

"Yep, just what I thought. I'll be there in twenty."

...

Daryl cursed himself the whole way to the Chinese place. That hadn't been the direction he'd wanted the phone call to go in the first place. He'd been trying to play it cool, trying to feel her out and get a sense of where her head was at after last night, and instead, he'd made her think that he had no interest in pursuing anything romantic whatsoever.

 _Good job, dumbass._

By the time he showed up on her doorstep with the still-steaming soup, he was already convinced his dumb ass would get what he deserved, which was not a damned thing. If he had any balls at all, hell, they might be married by now.

"Aw, thank you," Carol cooed as Daryl handed her the bag. "How is it possible that you didn't get sick, too?"

"Told you I rode soaked to the bone before. Guess my immune system's used to it."

"Jerk," Carol snorted, before she sneezed again. "Shit." She groaned, and they walked to the kitchen together. Carol ladled out a small helping of the soup and sat down, moaning softly as the first taste hit her tongue. "God, that's good."

"You wanna be alone?" he teased. Carol glared at him for a moment before grinning. Daryl opened up the takeout container and popped a piece of chicken into his mouth.

"Actually, no, I don't. And I didn't want to call Michonne, because the last thing she needs is to get sick right before her wedding. And you have the immune system of a demigod. I've only ever seen you sick once."

"Dixons come from a long line of healthy folks with dangerous habits." He patted his shirt pocket where his pack of cigarettes was.

"Oh, so you just look for ways to kill yourselves." Daryl smirked and ate another piece of chicken.

"Drove by the lake on my way here. They're out there scratchin' their heads wonderin' how the hell that dock collapsed."

"I should probably feel bad about that, but it's their own fault for not inspecting it more closely."

"Guess your cell's workin' alright?"

"Yeah," Carol laughed. "I tried that bag of rice trick, and it actually worked. My phone was good as new this morning." She coughed and groaned. "Ok, time for more meds. You probably don't want to stick around and listen to me hack my head off."

"What else I got to do? Go sit on the couch. I'm gonna make you a hot toddy." At Carol's skeptical glance, he grinned.

"Trust me. My grandma made me one or two when I was a kid. Knocked the cold right out."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry about that," Carol pouted.

"Go. Sit. Put your feet up. I'll be right back." Carol eyed him for a moment before retreating to the living room. She heard him clamoring around in the kitchen, and it wasn't long before the tea kettle began to whistle. A few minutes later, he came in with a steaming mug and presented it to her. "Drink up."

"You sure you know how to make these?"

"Promise," he replied, holding the cup to her lips. "Bottoms up." Carol sighed and took a sip before pushing the cup away and coughing at the burn of the whiskey on her throat.

"Is that straight whiskey?"

"Whiskey, honey and lemon and a little hot water."

"Just a little? It tastes like straight up whiskey."

"That's 'cause you got a cold. Drink up. Trust me. You'll be feelin' better in no time."

"I think you're just trying to get me drunk," she teased, trying to play it off as flirty but failing when she began to cough again. "Oh, give it here." She took the cup back and took another quick sip. She winced at the burn but soon adjusted to it. Daryl turned on the TV to some mindless reality show and propped his feet up while Carol finished her drink. When she put the empty cup down on the coffee table, her hand slipped against the glass, and Daryl reached out to steady her.

"Lightweight," he teased.

"Oh, shush," she murmured, yawning tiredly.

"You want me to go?" he asked.

"Mmmm, no. I like when you're here," she murmured. Daryl pulled his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Can you stay for a little bit?"

"Yeah. You just get some rest. I ain't goin' nowhere."

...

When Carol woke, the room was dimmer, and the clock read 5:30. The first thought that crossed her mind was that Daryl had left, but when she heard footsteps in the kitchen, she relaxed and sat up, clearing her throat and finding that it felt much better. She took a deep breath through her nose, amazed that it wasn't actually blocked up.

"Hey, you're up." He came out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice and a box of cold meds. "You been out a few hours. Time for your meds."

"You're so sweet," Carol said with a sleepy grin.

"Don't get used to it," he said with a smirk that made her laugh. "Here." He handed her the box, and she quickly took two gel caps from the blister pack before downing half the glass of orange juice to swallow them. "How ya feelin'?"

"Much better. Thank you for taking care of me." She nudged his leg with her foot.

"It's what we do," he offered, sitting back down as she finished off her glass of juice. When she leaned back, he draped his arm over the back of the couch behind her.

"You smell good."

"You can smell. That's a good sign," Daryl offered. Carol laughed at that. "Still sorry you got sick."

"I'm not," she said softly. "I mean, yeah, I don't really care for the sneezing and the coughing, but I had the best time." She sighed as he moved his arm to curl around her shoulders. "As first dates go, it was the best one I ever had, even if we did end up falling in the lake. And even if it wasn't really a date." She sighed when he squeezed her shoulder, and she bit her bottom lip. "And at forty-three, I've had a _lot_ of first dates." She expected him to take the in and make a joke, but he just looked at her.

"Me too," he murmured. She bit back a smile. The way he was looking at her, oh, she could have sworn there was something more there, something bubbling at the surface. Her breath caught in her throat, and she shrugged.

He gazed at her, watching the way her blue eyes sparkled, seeing the way she hid a smile and looked at him with so much love. She'd always had that look for him, a look he'd always taken for something only she could share with him, because they were so close. But now, as they sat there together, and she brought her hand up to lace her fingers with his, he felt a little dizzy, like his head was swimming.

"What's going on?" she murmured. He licked his lips, never taking his eyes off of hers despite the burning in his cheeks and the voice in his head telling him to avoid eye contact and run from potential embarrassment.

"Don't know," he offered truthfully. And she was scooting a little closer, if it was even possible, and their lips were mere inches apart. And hell, he knew it was probably a terrible idea, but that kiss they'd shared the night before had been so much better than he'd ever imagined.

His pulse thrummed, and he could feel it in his own fingertips, in his neck, in the palms of his hands. She was so close, and despite the slightly chapped lips and the nose red from sneezing, she still managed to look as beautiful as ever.

 _That's love. You got it bad_.

He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, sighing as his thumb caressed her and moved down to gently trail along her jaw. He watched her lips twitch, watched her tongue dart out to wet them. He drew in a quick breath, reaching down deep for the courage he'd managed to find the night before when he'd finished that kiss. And then his lips were on here, and she was sighing against him, bringing her hand down to his chest. But she didn't push him away. Instead, she curled her fingers into his shirt and pulled him closer.

Despite her lips being chapped, they were still soft and pliant, and when he dipped his tongue between her lips, she opened up to him, moaning softly as his arm came around her waist and pulled her closer. She shuddered when his hand moved down her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps before settling on her waist, fingers digging gently into her hips.

She gasped softly then, pulling back.

"What was that?" she whispered, leaning back just enough that she could see his face, though her fingers remained curled in his shirt.

"Don't know," he murmured. "I like kissin' you." She grinned a little.

"You know I'm sick, right?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Kinda forgot about that for a second." She smiled again, and he leaned down to press his lips against hers again. She kissed him back slowly, softly, letting his hands wander a little bit until she felt his fingertips graze against her ribcage under her shirt. She giggled then and gently pushed his hand away. "You ticklish?"

"A little," she admitted. "What…what are we doing here?"

 _This is it, Dixon. Don't pussy out._

"I lied. When I said it was just about the past catchin' up…that was a lie. Fact is, I still…I mean, things just got in the way, and I never said nothin'."

"Why?" she asked, sitting up, pulling back to tuck her legs under herself but reaching out to touch his forearm.

"Just didn't know how you felt. You married Ed, and…"

"You didn't figure it out the night I came to you and basically listed all the reasons I didn't want to marry Ed?"

"Hell, I didn't know what to do. Thought I was s'posed to be the good friend and talk you into marryin' him. Lotta good that did us." Carol ran her fingers through her hair, and she took a shaky breath.

"So you still feel…"

"But it don't matter," he said quickly. "It's the past, right?"

"Is that what you want? To keep it in the past?" she asked, eyeing him. He met her gaze, even and steady, and he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He did that a lot when he was nervous, and she knew he was struggling now, but the more he struggled, the more hopeful her heart felt. But what did this mean? What was this going to do to the _them_ that they had always been? When he didn't answer, she snorted and shook her head.

"What?"

"Michonne. All this time, she's been pushing the idea of you and me. She says it's the way you look at me, the way we look at each other. Daryl, I came to you the night before I got married, because I wanted you to give me a reason not to marry him. But you didn't, and that's when I let myself believe that it wasn't possible. That I had to settle, because what I really wanted, I couldn't have."

"What do you want now?" Daryl asked.

"I…I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it all the time," she admitted, biting her bottom lip. "But it never happened before. Neither one of us let it. And I can't help…I wonder if maybe that's because it's not supposed to happen."

"So you don't want…"

"You have no idea how badly I want…everything," she admitted, letting her gaze wander southward to give him a good idea of what was on her mind.

"Oh." He sat up quickly, shifting in his seat.

"I think…I think I need a little time to figure it out."

"You…want me to leave?" he asked, starting to get up from the couch. She tugged him right back down.

"No! You're not going anywhere. You're my best friend first, and neither one of us is running here. We've gone fifteen years without having this conversation, and damn it, we're going to have it. I'm saying, I don't know if rushing into anything is the right choice. We've been friends forever without knowing…and maybe that's what we need to stay. For now."

"For now?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"We need to be sure. I did what I thought I was supposed to do when I married Ed, and it was the worst decision I ever made. I rushed into something, because I thought it was my only choice, because I thought I had to settle. And I'm not saying that…that diving into this would be settling with you. I'm saying that I don't want to gamble on our friendship. It means too much to me."

"So what _are_ you sayin'?" He licked his lips then and couldn't help but let his gaze be drawn to her lips. He ached to kiss them again.

"I'm saying…we need to make sure what we're feeling is really…real." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know what I mean? We don't want to mistake old feelings and what could have been for right now. I care about you. I think about you."

"I think about you, too," he assured her.

"Good," she said with a little smile. "But we need to be sure before…" She swallowed hard. She was pretty sure, as it was, but she needed to know without a doubt that he knew what he was really feeling. She'd never entertained the idea that he could ever have feelings for her until Michonne had planted the seed in her head. She was forty-three years old. She wasn't going to play games or take chances when it came to Daryl. She loved him more than anything.

"Right," he murmured. "So…you just wanna be friends?"

"Now that we both know, I want us to be friends _first,_ above everything else. If it's supposed to be more…then we…we just won't stop it." She eyed him anxiously. "I don't want to force it. I don't want to just rush into something because of hormones or…or latent feelings that we need to sort out first."

"So…friends."

"We'll…take things slow and see what happens," she chuckled. "But I wouldn't hold it against you if you kissed me again sometime. If you want to. If you feel like that's what you want to do." She blinked up at him, and God, he wanted to kiss every bit of her and wrap her tight in his arms. But that would certainly be moving way too far past friendly territory way too fast.

"Like right now?"

"Now would be ok," she laughed. "But you're going to be so sick tomorrow." He snorted then and grabbed a blister pack, popping out two cold pills before swallowing them and downing the last sip in Carol's glass of orange juice.

"Gotta be prepared," he said with a shrug at her amazement, before he leaned in to press his lips against hers one more time.

To say his new development in their relationship was complicated would have been a major understatement, but Carol felt relieved, as she leaned into his kiss, feeling those sparks bubbling under her veins, feeling his hand gently cupping her chin as they kissed. She felt a weight off of her shoulders. She knew her feelings were her own, but she needed time. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him or break their friendship. But as long as they were feeling things out, a few kisses here and there certainly weren't going to hurt anything, so long as that was all the further they went.

Her mother had once told her that a woman could tell everything they needed to know about a man from a kiss. And everything his kisses had told her about him were everything she'd always dreamed, and she knew where her heart belonged. But she needed _him_ to be sure. And maybe he would change his mind. Maybe his head would clear and he'd realize that he was only feeling these things because they'd kissed and took a walk down memory lane. Maybe tomorrow, he'd wake up and realize he would still rather be alone.

...

"So, you guys kissed?" Michonne asked eagerly on the other end of the call.

"Yeah. I mean, we just…we talked about things, and I think we're both there."

"Like I told you," Michonne pointed out.

"But we're being careful," Carol insisted. "We're friends first, and we're testing the waters."

"That's good," Michonne sighed. "That's really good. That's the best part. The whole 'should I kiss him, does he want me to kiss him' phase. It's the exciting part. The anticipation. The excitement. God, I miss that. I mean, not that Rick and I don't have amazing sex. I wouldn't be marrying him if we didn't have that spark. I know life isn't all about sex, but a woman has needs, and sex is an important part of marriage, you know. It's definitely an important part of our relationship, anyway."

"Well, I'm happy you found somebody that makes you happy in more than one way," Carol laughed.

"And you guys are gonna have that, too," Michonne promised. "So, what is this anyway?"

"We're not rushing into anything."

"You've waited fifteen years for this," Michonne groaned. "Come on. Get some already."

"Stop!" Carol laughed. "We're not rushing into anything, but we're not stopping it either. We're seeing how things go. We both want to be sure this is exactly what we want."

"But…you are sure."

"Yeah, but I want to be sure he's sure."

"Oh, he's sure."

"Well, I want him to be sure for himself," Carol insisted.

"You guys are frustrating. It's like watching your favorite potential TV couple navigating the world around each other without ever actually touching."

"Yeah, well, this isn't TV. There's no script for this, and I don't know what the endgame is. I know what I want it to be, but wanting and having are two different things." She sighed and flopped back on her bed. She felt her phone vibrate in her hand. "Hold on. I'm getting a text."

"Ok." Carol quickly found the message and grinned when she saw it was from him.

 _You gave me your cold._

 _Aww. I'm sorry. But I told you so._

 _It's alright. It was worth the risk._

She beamed then and put the phone back to her ear.

"Michonne?"

"Hmm?"

"You know, I think everything's going to work out exactly the way it's supposed to."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: A big error was pointed out to me. Carol and Daryl are around 43 years old. I've been saying 15 years instead of the 25 years they've actually known one another. So, if anybody was confused, I apologize. To sum up: Carol and Daryl are 43. They've known and had a thing for each other for 25 years.

Chapter 6

"What are you packin'?"

"Clothes," she teased, holding the phone between her ear and her shoulder. She folded and tossed a pair of jeans into the suitcase.

"What else?"

"Um, shoes. Toothpaste. Toothbrush." She crinkled her nose. She knew where this was going. "And the rest is my little secret." She bit her lip when she heard him groan, and she couldn't help but feel her heart flutter in her chest. "What are you packing?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? You're the one that set the no nudity rule. But if you're curious, it's big enough to do the trick."

"What?" she asked, furrowing her brows in confusion until she realized she'd walked herself right into that one. "Oh my God. You're crazy." She laughed then, and she could almost hear him smile on the other line.

"Hey, you asked."

The last two weeks had been adventurous and at times a little awkward, but Carol had been happier in these past two weeks than she'd been in twenty-five years. Not much had changed. As before, they pretty much spent all of their downtime together, only now, their nights would usually end with a goodnight kiss instead of a lingering look at the door. But they'd set boundaries in an effort to make sure they didn't take things too far too fast. But it was getting harder to say goodbye every night now, and Carol generally ended up worked up and finishing herself off with her battery operated boyfriend, a purple vibrator she'd bought to replace the last one that had gotten her through the lonely nights after—and before— her divorce.

Remembering her little purple friend, Carol grabbed it from her nightstand and packed it in with her underwear, complete with a fresh set of batteries.

"You have your ticket?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yep."

"You're sure?"

"I'm lookin' at it right now."

"You might want to go put it in the truck so you don't forget."

"I ain't gonna forget." It was time to get back on track. "You bringin' a swimsuit."

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yep. Is it that black bikini?"

"The one Ed bought me? No. That thing's eight years old and has holes in it." She laughed. "No, I bought a new one. I'm not sure I'm gonna wear it though."

"Why not?"

"Because next to those twenty something girls, I'll look ridiculous."

"Says who?"

"Me," she snorted. "I'll probably just wear it in the hot tub in my room."

"Maybe I'll join ya. My room don't have a hot tub. It's got a mini bar though."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure by the time this trip is over, you'll find some hot thing that wants…"

"Stop. How many times I gotta tell you?" Carol sighed as he continued. "I know what I want. We can take things as slow as you want, see where they go, but it ain't gonna change how I've felt the last twenty five years. 'Sides, I ain't no Spring chicken. Found three more grey whiskers this mornin'."

"Oh, poor baby," she snorted. "Come talk to me when 97% of your head is covered in grey."

"Hey, I like it on you. Brings out your eyes. You always been gorgeous." Carol's grin widened, and she bit her lip. Her heart did a little cha-cha-cha against her ribcage. "Hey, you know how you're always on me about gettin' a haircut? You wanna do it?"

"What? Oh, I like your hair long. I was just teasing," she offered. "But I can trim it up for you if you want." She glanced at the clock. "You want to stop by a little early in the morning before we leave?"

"Nah, I can come over now."

"You think that's a good idea?" she asked.

"I can keep my hands to myself. Can you?" he teased. Carol laughed then, and she looked toward the ceiling. _I'm gonna need a little help getting through this one._

"Of course."

"Can't make no promises about Florida though. Seein' you in that bikini might just push me over the edge."

"Flattery will get you…somewhere," she laughed. "Ok, come on over. And just remember, I'll be wielding scissors, so no funny stuff, pal. No wandering hands."

"A wanderin' mind's a different story," he offered. "I been good at this just friends stuff for twenty-five years. I can hold out a little longer, 'specially since ya let me kiss ya. You're an awful good friend."

"Oh, shut up," she laughed. "Get over here and hurry."

...

"Hold still," she laughed, snipping at the ends of his hair. "It's gonna be uneven." She snipped a few more pieces. "Ok." She moved to stand in front of him, eyeing her work, and when she went to meet his gaze, he was staring down the front of her shirt. "Hey, eyes up here."

"Sorry. They were there, and so were my eyes."

"Ha," Carol snorted. "Ok. Take a look." She held up the mirror for him to check out his newly snipped locks. She hadn't gone very short, but at least the hair was out of his eyes, and he still had some length. "I was worried you were going to venture into mullet territory, so I evened things up. I saw the seventh grade yearbook picture. Merle showed me years ago."

"Shit," Daryl groaned.

"It's ok," she laughed. "I won't hold it against you. I had Farrah hair once."

"Yeah, and I remember you wore that red bathing suit to the senior swim out on the lake."

"You remember that?"

"Let's just say it was the subject of many, uh, dreams for a few years."

"Oh God," Carol snorted.

"Trust me. I ain't proud of how many times I thought about you over the years." Before she knew it, his hands were on her waist and tugging her to stand between his legs. She put her shears down on the table and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling as she stared down at him. "You, uh, ever think about me?" She watched the tips of his ears turn red first, and then his cheeks followed suit.

"Maybe," she teased, running her finger along his jaw. Daryl stood up then, backing her up across the linoleum kitchen floor until she was pressed against the counter.

"You gotta know by now that this is what I want," he promised, pressing his forehead against hers. She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning in when he kissed her. The kiss was slow and sweet and lingered a moment when he pulled back. "You're all I ever wanted. Just wish we'd both figured this out a long time ago. We wasted so much time."

"Daryl," she choked out. He caught her gaze and saw the tears welling in her eyes.

"You don't believe me?"

"I do," she promised. "But I don't want either of us to have any regrets."

"Only regret I have is not tellin' you a long time ago." Carol smiled then and leaned up to kiss his forehead.

"Let's get through this trip. A weekend on a yacht, lots of people, lots to do. Let's just take some time apart."

"Time?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brow. "You want me to stay away from you?"

"No!" she insisted, tugging at his shirt when he started to back away. "Well, yes, but not the reason you think. I just want there to be no doubts. You say you're sure, but I've wasted so much time with the wrong men, and _you_ are so important to me. I couldn't stand to lose you. So we should take some time. Spend time with other people."

"What kinda time we talkin' about?"

"I'm not saying screw around with other people. Unless it's what you want, and if that's what you want to do, then clearly this isn't mean to be."

"You're givin' me permission to see if there's someone else out there? You really want that?" He narrowed his eyes at her, searching her face for some hint at her angle.

"No," she sighed. "But if at the end of this trip, you're still absolutely certain that you want this…"

"Would you stop?" Daryl asked. "You act like this is all on me, like it's my decision. I ain't some kid that don't know what he wants. I'm a man, and I know what I want. I know who I want. And I want you. I love you." Carol gasped softly, and she watched him flinch. He shook his head. "And if you ain't sure that's what you want..."

"I didn't say that."

"Then stop treatin' me like I'm gonna change my mind tomorrow." He pulled away then. "I gotta go. Got things to do."

"Daryl…"

"Ya know, all I wanted to do was spend time with you on this trip and just focus on us. But all you wanna do is spend time away from each other? I ain't even sure I wanna go on this trip, not if it means I gotta watch you try to look for reasons I shouldn't be with you." With that, he turned and walked out the back door, letting the screen door slam on the way out.

"Daryl!" she called, running down the hall to the front door in time to see him stalking past the porch and over to his motorcycle. "Don't do this." But he started the engine, peeled out of the drive and headed home.

She stood there, staring out the door long after he'd gone, and her heart sank in her chest.

 _Maybe this is why you shouldn't date your best friend. All you're gonna do is hurt each other._

...

Carol had waited as long as she could, but when the final call for boarding was announced, she had no choice but to retreat to the plane and find her seat. The stewardess was already taking drink orders, and Carol went ahead and ordered a glass of white wine.

"Anything else?" the stewardess asked with a bright smile.

"Um, my friend is coming. He's, uh, supposed to sit here."

"Did you two come together?"

"No, but he'll be here. He should be here."

"Would you like to place an order for him?" Carol glanced down the aisle but still saw no sign of him.

"Um, no. I better not. In fact, cancel my order."

"Alright. If you change your mind, just press your overhead button."

"Thank you," Carol said quietly, grabbing her cell phone to shoot a quick text to Michonne.

 _He's not here. I think I really screwed this up._

 _What? He's not coming?_

 _We're taking off in less than ten minutes, Michonne! He hasn't answered his texts. He hasn't returned my calls. I feel like shit._

 _I'm sorry, hun. Look, we can get drunk tonight and just forget about him._

 _Uh, you're getting married tonight._

 _Oh, damn. Well, tomorrow we will._

 _It's a date._

Carol smiled sadly and shook her head before trying one last time to text him.

 _Where are you? You're going to miss the flight._

Nothing. She sighed and turned her phone off, tossing it into her purse and leaning her head back against the seat. Within a few minutes, the flight attendants were going over emergency landing protocol and the engines were starting up, and all Carol could think about was how she'd been so stupid. She had tried so hard to play it safe in order to not lose the best friendship that she'd ever had. But, somehow, deep in her gut, she felt that maybe she'd lost him anyhow. She suddenly felt sick and wanted to jump up and ask to be let off the flight. But it was too late, and the fasten seat belt signs were coming on, and before she knew it, they were taking off down the runway, and all she could think was that she'd just let the best thing that had ever happened to her slip right out of her grasp.

...

"What are you doing?!" Michonne laughed, as Rick came up behind her, pulling his arms around her waist and kissing the back of her neck. "You're not supposed to see me before the wedding!" She reached back to put her hand over his eyes, but he simply kissed the palm of her hand.

"I've had all the bad luck I can stand. The best luck I've had in the last year is meeting you." She sighed then, turning to kiss him.

"You're a smooth talker," she chuckled. "Where are the kids?"

"My mom took Judith to look at the boats, and I'm pretty sure Carl holed up in his cabin with his phone. He's either talking to a girl or playing games." He shrugged and kissed his fiancée again. "You heard from Daryl?"

"Mmm. Hold on. My phone's buzzing." She quickly grabbed it from her pocket as Rick began kissing her neck. She closed her eyes and bit her lip but put her phone up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Oh my God, what took you so long?" Michonne asked with a sigh, gently pushing at Rick's shoulder to get him to stop. He flopped back on her bed and folded his arms behind his head, watching her pace the yacht cabin.

"Carol's really freaking out. It's a good thing you told me what you had planned, or I might have uninvited your ass."

"I got it. I'm on the way to the airport for the next flight out."

"You managed to get one?"

"Had to split the ticket on two credit cards, but I got it."

"Oh my God," Michonne murmured in relief. "So you're gonna make it?"

"I'll be there in four hours," he promised. "Check your messages. I just sent you a picture."

"Ok. Hold on." She quickly found his text and clicked on the attachment. She gasped and held the phone up to her ear. "Holy shit. You have it?"

"Yeah. You think she'll like it?"

"Well, I think if she ever had any doubts about you knowing what you want, they'll go right out the window the second you show her this."

"You don't think it'll scare her off?"

"You're grown, you've been in love with each other since forever, and you've both wanted this for almost as long. If she runs, I'll personally find her and kick her ass." By this time, Rick got nosy and stood up to come try to pry her phone from her hand to see the picture. She swatted at his hand and gave him a little kiss. "Hey, I've gotta go. But you better lead with that ring when you see her, because I'm pretty sure she's gonna be a mess."

"I'll fix this. I was the asshole last night," he admitted. "But if somethin' goes wrong…will you be there for her? If I fuck this up, I don't want her alone all weekend. I know you're gettin' married, and it's a lot to ask, but…"

"I'll always be there for her," Michonne promised. "But don't fuck this up, because I'll have to come kick your ass, too."

"Got it," Daryl snorted.

"Alright, bye." Michonne ended the call.

"What was that all about?" Rick asked.

"Oh, nothing. Ok, maybe everything," Michonne laughed, pulling up the picture and showing Rick.

"What's this? The ring you wish I'd bought you?"

"Oh, shut up. My ring's perfect," Michonne replied with a grin. "No, baby, this is the ring Daryl should have put on Carol's finger twenty-five years ago."

"Holy shit. He's proposing?"

"He'd better, because I'm getting married this weekend, and I don't have time to go fixing everybody else's relationships. It's exhausting."

"You're amazing, you know that?" He kissed her neck then, moving his hand down her back.

"Ok, it's bad enough luck to see the bride before the wedding. What kind of voodoo are you playing with, trying to get laid before we walk down the aisle?"

"Alright, I'll stop," Rick snorted. "But tonight?"

"That's typically how the wedding night goes, babe. You've been there before." She patted his face and put some distance between them. "Now, I better not see you again until we're both baking in the sun wearing clothes that are entirely too expensive to sweat in." Rick grinned at her, and she winked. "I love you."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Florida was more beautiful than Carol remembered, but she just couldn't find the heart to enjoy it, even when she was on the small dinghy ferrying guests out to the yacht. The water was almost as smooth as glass after they got out of the harbor, and by the time they were up close to board, Carol wondered if she'd been taken to the wrong place. Yacht? More like a cruise ship! It was huge, and she could tell a party was already in full swing. Caribbean music floated out into the salty sea air, and even that wasn't enough to lift her spirits.

"You made it!" Michonne squealed, wrapping her friend in a hug the second she boarded the yacht.

"I'm here," Carol offered with a little chuckle. "Daryl isn't."

"Oh," Michonne said softly, frowning. "I'm sorry."

"It's my own fault."

"Come on. I'll show you to your cabin, and we'll talk."

"You have other things to do," Carol muttered. "Wedding things."

"Everything's ready. Now I'm just trying to keep everybody from getting too drunk. I don't know 75% of the people here, but I'm pretty sure I just saw a Congressman do a body shot off of a pool boy." Carol laughed at that, and she took Michonne's hand. "See, that's the spirit!" She led her down a long corridor off the main entryway, and Carol was in awe as she took in the sights around her.

"Are you sure you ordered a yacht, because I think you got the Titanic's baby sister," Carol offered. Michonne laughed.

"Yeah, they spared no expense." Michonne shrugged and stopped at room 135. "Alright. This is you. Complete with a private hot tub. Oh, and I scored you your own mini bar. You can thank me later." Michonne grinned at her, and Carol sighed happily the second she spotted the big, comfy-looking bed and the beautiful sliding doors that opened up onto a small deck.

"It's beautiful, Mich." She rolled her suitcase into the room and propped it by the bed, turning to grab a mini bottle of chardonnay from the little fridge under the TV. "And I promise I'll be sober before sunset."

"Hey, come on," Michonne offered, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to her. "Grab me one of those bad boys and come over here." Carol chuckled and grabbed another bottle from the fridge, tossing it at Michonne. They popped them open and had them down in three quick swigs. "So spill."

"Well, I already told you pretty much everything. I was awful. I mean, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was playing it safe, because I didn't want either of us to have any regrets. And I guess I played it too safe, because he stormed out. He says he's sure."

"Well, maybe he is. Maybe it's you that isn't."

"But that's just it. I _am_. I guess I'm still in disbelief that I've had these feelings for him all these years and he had them for me, too, and now we're both trying to find ourselves in this relationship, and we're already so invested. We've been so close for twenty five years, but neither of us have taken that step. Now that we've started tiptoeing over the line, we're just…" She shook her head. "I fucked up." She shook her head.

"Have you tried calling him again?"

"I've left him six voicemails since I got off the plane. He's not responding. I should have gotten off the plane. I should have gone to his place and tried to work things out." She covered her face with her hands and flopped back on the bed.

"Ok," Michonne said slowly, letting out an even breath. "Ok, get up."

"Huh?"

"We're going to go out and dance and mingle."

"I don't feel like it."

"Trust me. It's good for the soul."

"My soul and I would rather be left alone, thank you very much."

"Nope. Come on. I'm not going to let you sit here for one second thinking bad things about yourself. I love you, and I know that once you get out there, you're going to have an amazing time."

"No. I'm not."

"Yes you are! Now go get your ass in something party casual and meet me in the hall in five minutes." Carol pouted then, but Michonne gave her _the look_. "Get."

"Oh, fine," Carol muttered. "But just so we're clear, I'm only doing this for you, because this is your day."

"Ooh, guilt. I'll take it." Carol sighed then, and she grabbed her suitcase and started for her en suite bathroom. It was bigger than she expected, and she had room to lay her suitcase out and rifle through it. She came out with a little black dress that showed a little too much back than she'd wanted, but she figured if she was going to be in Florida, she might as well make the most of it.

But just as she was stepping out of her shoes, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly reached for it and sat down on the toilet. The message was from Daryl.

 _Sorry I was an asshole._

 _I was the asshole. You've been so sweet, and I acted like a jerk._

 _Nah. You wanted me to be sure. I get it._

 _I'm sorry I screwed this up. Call me?_

 _I'll call you tonight._

 _You should be here. It's my fault you aren't here. I'm sorry, Daryl._

She sat there for a few moments, waiting for a response. Finally, she bit her lip and tapped out another message.

 _I'm sorry. I want to make things right._

 _Just have a good time. I'll see you when I see you._

Her heart sank, and she felt the tears sting her eyes. She knew he was distancing himself because he was hurt, but this was more painful than she'd imagined.

 _Ok…._

Well, how else could she respond? She was forty-three years old for goodness sakes. She was a grown woman who'd been through a shitty marriage and a shittier divorce, and now that she'd finally started to have the kind of relationship she'd only read about in books, she was apparently trying to make things harder than they needed to be.

She ran her fingers through her hair and finally decided that she was going to just try to enjoy herself for Michonne's sake. She didn't want one of Michonne's lasting memories of her wedding day to be her sad friend crying over her own failures.

So, she busied herself getting ready, put in a dab of makeup and styled her hair. She added a necklace and a simple silver bracelet for flare, and then she grabbed a pair of heels, immediately regretting it the second she walked out into the hall.

"Oh my God, you look _hot_!" Michonne offered.

"Oh, shut up."

"Every girl has a little black dress, but that thing is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous good?"

"Very." Michonne winked at her and grabbed her hand. "Come on. I won't leave you alone until I see you having a good time and actually enjoying yourself."

"I'm good at faking it," Carol pointed out.

"Yeah, well, as a fellow faker, I know when to call bullshit. You can't fool me."

"I hate you for this right now," Carol groaned.

"I know. But you'll love me for it later."

...

"You sure she didn't see me?" Daryl asked, as he slipped into the cabin Rick had directed him to.

"I promise. She's up on deck with Michonne. She's keeping her busy for a while. She'll let you know."

"You sure?"

"Just relax, man. Look, I know. I've been there. I think I lost three pounds in sweat a lone worrying that Michonne wasn't going to say yes."

"Yeah, but you two were actually datin'. What me and Carol have…"

"Is a long time coming," Rick pointed out. "Just breathe, man. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

"I could fuck this up and lose her for good."

"Well, that won't happen. Now go get ready. At least shave for God sakes. You're going to a wedding, after all." At Daryl's glare, Rick clapped him on the shoulder. "Glad you made it, man. Carol's gonna be so surprised."

"Yeah," Daryl muttered. Rick left him to get ready, and Daryl sat down on the edge of the bed, going over her texts. He imagined her looking defeated after her last text, and he hated that. He hadn't wanted to make her feel so bad, and he knew he shouldn't have stormed out, but she'd been the only woman who had ever made him feel the things that he felt so intensely, and he knew there was never going to be anyone for him that he could ever love the way he loved her. He needed her to know it. He needed her to feel that. He only hoped that when the weekend was over, he'd never have to wonder what it was like to spend one more day without her.

He put his phone away and took his time taking a shower and shaving, and by the time he was toweling off, his phone buzzed, and he padded barefoot and naked over to his bed to find a message from Michonne.

 _She's back in her cabin. Don't mess this up!_

 _Thanks, Michonne. She ok?_

 _She's had her moments. She's beating herself up. Next time I see you, you'd better be fashionably late to my wedding. Mind-blowing first-time reunion sex trumps best friend's wedding._

 _Stop._

 _Fine, do whatever. But she'd better be smiling next time I see her. She's in 135._

Daryl snorted and shook his head, putting his phone back down on the bed. With a shaky breath, he grabbed for his clothes and started dressing. His heart thundered in his chest, and he swallowed hard as his head swam a little.

Once he was dressed, he grabbed for the ring box and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

 _This is it._

He tucked his cell phone into his other pocket, ran his fingers through his hair and looked himself over in the mirror.With one last moment of courage, he finally stepped out in the hall and headed toward Cabin 135.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 _153_

He'd never felt so overdressed in his life. Most of the guests hadn't changed into their wedding attire yet. He, however, was wearing a freshly pressed suit and the tie Carol had picked out to match her dress. He was thankful for the air conditioning, because he was certain that without it, he'd have already been a sweaty mess. Still, his tie felt a little tight around his throat, and his heart was racing. His palms were sweating, and he was pretty sure he could feel his anxiety all the way in the tips of his toes.

 _150_

What if she didn't want to see him? What if she was mad? What if she just wanted to forget about the whole thing and just be friends? If there was one thing that he was certain of, it was that being friends just wasn't enough. Not anymore. Not when all he'd dreamed of having with her had suddenly been thrust into arms' reach. No. He needed more. He needed her to need more.

 _147_

A few women gave him the eye as he passed them by. He felt a knot tighten in his gut. Were these the kids of women she'd thought he might want? Not even close. The truth was, if he was being honest with himself, that his first few girlfriends after Carol had come into his life had been his attempt at forgetting everything he loved about her. They'd been her opposites. Tall. Blonde. Anything she wasn't. At the end of those dates, he'd end up dropping them off at home and ending up on the phone with her, not even really talking about much. He'd just wanted to hear her voice.

 _143_

He remembered her calling him on the phone once after she'd married Ed. She'd missed her period and was terrified that she was pregnant. Kids weren't part of the picture. Not Ed's picture, anyway, and while Carol hadn't really ever entertained the idea of being a mom, marrying Ed had pretty much put the final nail into her future as a mother. Ed had made all sorts of plans for them to travel and see the world. Her passport was still sitting, unstamped, in her bedside table at home. So many plans, so many dreams, so many broken promises. And he knew Carol. She wasn't about material things, but one of the things that she'd once confessed to Daryl that had drawn her to Ed was his sense of adventure and his aspirations to travel the world. Apparently, Ed's sense of adventure wasn't as adventurous as she'd originally thought.

 _140_

He could see her door. It was just in sight, and suddenly, a cold sweat broke out on his brow. A hot wave of panic rose in his throat, and he nearly choked before patting down his pockets and finding comfort in the fact that he hadn't lost the ring.

 _138_

He remembered seeing the relief in her face when the test came back negative. Hell, he remembered going with her to buy the test. It was something reserved mostly for girl-type friends, but his role as her best friend had had him seeing her through a fair share of pregnancy scares and late night tampon runs. He blushed and complained, but in the end, he'd never really minded, because all he wanted to do was take care of her. And he'd known for a long time. He'd just never taken his chance, and somehow, the years had betrayed them. But now? Now it was time.

 _135_

He stopped, catching a whiff of her favorite perfume. She was close, and his breath was short and quick. His pulse was thrumming in his ears. His hand trembled and curled, poised to knock. And when he bowed his head and closed his eyes and took the chance to knock, he felt that knot in his gut pull a little tighter.

No answer. He knocked again. Waited. Nothing. _Shit_.

He grabbed his phone, ready to text Michonne. But he hesitated and finally hit the speed dial, waiting, hoping.

"Hey." Her voice was soft and sad, and he strained to hear her.

"Hey. You havin' a good time?"

"Not really," she admitted. "I feel like shit."

"Stop. I ain't mad."

"Yeah," she snorted. "That's why you're not here."

"I had to think. You said you wanted to spend time apart. I gave ya time."

"I've been going crazy. I shouldn't have even gotten on that plane."

"You're there for Michonne. That's where ya need to be."

"Is it?" she asked quietly. He could hear the faint echo of music on the other end of the call.

"Where are you?"

"Oh, somewhere out in the gulf with a glass of wine in my hand listening to some Barry Manilow wannabe serenade a bunch of lovebirds." She snorted. "I should have stayed in my room." He could hear water splashing. "Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure I just saw the Mayor do a belly flop into one of the pools."

"It's got more than one pool?"

"It's got everything." She chewed her lip. "Except you. I miss you, and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," he said quietly.

"So," she said thickly. "Where does this leave us?"

"I…uh…you wanna do this over the phone?"

"No. No, I guess not," she said quietly. She took a shaky breath. "What you said the other day…did you mean it?" He knew what she was talking about. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He'd said it in the heat of an argument, but it didn't make it any less true. "You said you love me."

"I ain't never stopped," he said quietly. "The rest I wanna say to your face."

"Ok," she chuckled. "But…I do too, you know. And I want this to work." She sighed softly. "I'm going to go rest a little. I hated how quiet my cabin was, but I'd rather be there than out here where everybody's loud and drunk."

"Go get some rest. I'll see you soon."

"Ok," she whispered softly. He couldn't help but grin. He knew her well enough to know that when her voice got like that, she was smiling. "Bye." The line went quiet, and Daryl tucked his phone away. There was still time to see her before the wedding, and he wanted to surprise her.

He had a couple of options. He could go to her and surprise her and maybe have a pretty good time before the wedding, or he could surprise her just before the wedding. That just felt too far away.

He cleared his throat and grabbed his phone again.

 _Michonne, can you do me a favor?_

 _Why are you texting me? You should be naked. With Carol._

 _She wasn't in her room. I called her._

 _That's progress. What do you need?_

 _I'm going back to my cabin. Call her in ten minutes._

 _And tell her what?_

 _Give her some excuse. Anything. Just get her to my room._

 _Ten minutes?_

 _Make it fifteen. You have room service on this thing?_

 _Are you kidding? Just pick up the phone and they'll have whatever you want in 10 minutes._

 _Alright. Make it twenty minutes to be safe._

 _Please tell me this is a good thing._

 _It's good. Thanks, Michonne._

By the time Daryl got back to his cabin, his hands were shaking, and his palms were sweaty, but he managed to grab the phone. The second it was at his ear, a young man's voice filled his ear.

"Yes sir, Mr. Dixon?"

"You know my name?"

"We know every wedding guest based on their room number when they call."

"Oh. Uh, I need a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Also some strawberries. And whipped cream."

"Anything else, sir? Might I suggest the chocolate syrup."

"You tryin' to be smart? Just mind your own business and you might get a tip."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"Make it fast."

"Ten minutes, sir." Daryl hung up, and just as he was going to sit on the bed, an idea popped into his head. With a smirk, he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Michonne before picking up the room service phone.

"Mr. Dixon?"

"Yeah. I got a change of plans. I'll triple the tip if you pull this off."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 _Hey, I know you're planning on drinking alone in your cabin, but can you do me a huge favor?_

 _What's up?_

 _I'm hanging my dress up in one of the empty cabins. The skirt was starting to wrinkle, and I didn't want to hang it up in plain sight where Rick could see. Can you meet me at 102 and help me smuggle it to your cabin? Pretty please?_

 _Ok, but wouldn't it be easier to just tell Rick to stay away?_

 _You'd think, but no._

 _Oh, fine. I'll be there in a few._

Carol re-read her conversation with Michonne to make certain she had the right room. When she approached the door, she frowned, and she did a double take. 102 was a closet for the cleaning crew.

 _Uh, Mich? 102 is a janitor's closet._

 _Oh! Crap. I meant 120. Crap. Well, you know what? Don't worry about it. I think I found a good hiding place. Thanks though._

 _What's going on? You aren't usually this scatterbrained._

 _I'm good. Promise. I think it's those pre-wedding jitters. I'll see you in a little bit._

 _Ok. I'm going back to my cabin._

 _Oh, come on. Don't go back there yet. It's too stuffy._

 _I have the air on._

 _Get out and enjoy the sea air._

 _I'd rather enjoy a comfy bed._

 _You're impossible. Come on, you can't stay in your cabin all weekend._

 _I won't. I promise. I'll see you later._

Carol started back to her cabin, checking her messages for any word from Daryl. But there was nothing. She thought about calling him back, because ever since she'd talked to him, she'd had a smile on her face. Despite that, she still wanted to be a hermit in her cabin up until the wedding. Only, she wasn't intending to sob about her love life. In fact, she wanted to think about it, because the more she thought of their last conversation on the phone, the lighter she felt, the more excited she was to see him again. It was going to be a very long weekend without him.

"Hey!" Carol nearly smacked right into someone that came rushing around one corner.

"Tara?!" Carol asked, breathlessly, putting her hand to her chest. Tara's date Rosita stopped just short of the two of them, her face flushed from running. "Where's the fire?"

"Hey, I was just looking for you," Tara panted, leaning forward a little with her hands on her knees so she could catch her breath.

"You looked like someone was chasing you. Are you ok?" She glanced at Rosita, who shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. Hey, have you met Rosita?" Tara asked, leaning against the wall.

"Yes, I have, actually," Carol chuckled. "You introduced her to me twice. You're still drunk, aren't you?"

"Yes. Speaking of my date, have you _seen_ Rosita?"

"Um, yeah, she's…she's right behind you." Rosita and Tara exchanged an awkward glance, before Tara snorted.

"Oh, there you are!"

"Uh, yeah," Rosita laughed. "Here I am." Carol narrowed her eyes at the both of them.

"Are you ok, Tara?"

"Yeah, great!" Tara replied with a grin. "Hey, you wanna go watch the guys act macho and push each other overboard?

"No, not really," Carol replied with a smirk. Tara stepped into her way as she started to head back to her cabin. "Tara?"

"Come on, come take a walk with us. It's so beautiful outside. Storm clouds are rolling in."

"Storm clouds?" Carol asked, concern creasing her brows.

"Looks like it'll pass us by," Rosita offered. "But the clouds are kind of wicked."

"I appreciate the offer, but you girls go."

"Carol, I hate that you haven't had one bit of fun since you got here."

"Hey, I'm having a good time. I'm just not much for the crowded scene these days."

"Alright," Tara sighed. "At least I tried."

"Thank you anyway," Carol chuckled, giving Tara's shoulder a squeeze. "See you both at the wedding." She started off, and Tara groaned.

"What was that?" Rosita snorted.

"What?"

"You actually asked her if she'd seen me? Hello, I was right behind you."

"I was stalling," Tara insisted. "Hold on." She quickly grabbed her phone and got Michonne on speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Ok, I suck at stalling?"

"What?! You had _one_ job."

"Yeah, well, she's on her way back there right now, so let's just hope he's ready!"

...

 _The eagle is about to land!_

 _What?_

 _She's coming back._

 _Why didn't ya just say so? Shit._

 _Well, are you ready?_

 _Ready as I'm gonna be._

Daryl stuffed his phone in his coat pocket the second he heard the doorknob jiggle. He cleared his throat and stood open, smoothing his hair back and hoping he didn't look too much like a desperate son of a bitch.

He quickly reached for the lights, flicking them out, letting the glow of the candles on the table illuminate the room. He honestly wasn't sure if he was going for romantic and ended up with cheesy or if it was the other way around. All he knew was that this was his moment to make a gesture that would leave her with no question about what he wanted, and now his heart felt like it was in his throat, and he was pretty sure his tie was trying to strangle him.

The door swung open, and the first thing he saw was her blue eyes sparkling in the candle light as the rest of her face was hidden in flickering shadow. She gasped softly when she saw him standing there, and she nearly fell back against the door when she closed it.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to surprise ya," he chuckled, as she took a step forward, eyeing the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice and the covered platter on the table.

"You…you did," she chuckled, as he stepped forward. She quickly closed the gap, throwing her arms around his shoulders and burying her face against his neck. "What did you do?"

"I took the next flight out, 'cause I had somethin' I had to do. Somethin' I shoulda done a long time ago."

"Oh." She felt her breath catch in her throat. She pulled back a little and leaned in to greet him with a kiss. His lips were soft and warm against hers, and she was disappointed when he broke the kiss earlier than she'd have liked. He looked so handsome, standing there in front of her wearing a suit. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and she knew he was nervous as hell, and being his best friend, well, that had her a little nervous, too. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm good. I, uh, I'm better than I ever been, actually." He brought his hands out of his pockets, though he suddenly looked lost about what to do with them. So, back in his pockets they went.

"Daryl, you're…you're making me nervous here," Carol chuckled.

"Look, I wanted to tell ya that the worst thing I coulda done was walk out last night. I guess I just had a lot of my mind, but the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt ya. I guess I just let myself keep my feelings to myself for so long, I didn't really know what to do when ya said what ya said. I know you been hurt before. I know what you went through with Ed." He shook his head. "But I ain't Ed. I ain't never gonna treat you the way he treated you. I was there before him, and I was there after he was gone. And I ain't plannin' on goin' nowhere."

"Daryl," she said softly, feeling her eyes stinging.

"Hey, I gotta get this out. I been practicin' this in my head since I got on the plane this mornin'." He reached out and took her hand, and she could feel him trembling. Her own lip trembled when she heard his voice break with his next words. "I love you. Have for a long time. And I hate that it took us this long to realize we coulda had somethin' forever ago. The only thing I ever been sure about is you. Carol." She bit her bottom lip then, and she smiled as tears clouded her eyes. "The only thing I want is you." He reached into his pocket then, and she put her hand over her mouth when he pulled out the little black box. "And I know we ain't never really had a real first date. Feels like the 100th date when it's just us at your place or at mine." He cleared his throat then, watching as the candlelight played across her features. Her hand came down from her mouth, and she placed it over her stomach, as if to hold herself back. "I wanna marry you. I want you to know how much you mean to me, 'cause you're it for me. You wanna know if I'm sure? I've always been sure. Just didn't know 'til recently that I stood a shot." He chuckled then, rubbing the back of his neck. "Will you?"

"Daryl," she choked out. "You made me think I lost you." Her voice trembled, and the tears spilled over. "I thought I lost my best friend, and that's exactly what I've been afraid of for so long. I don't ever want to lose you. I love you so much." She sniffled and shook her head. "Losing you isn't an option. It never has been. I know that now. And I want this. I do. I want us." She reached out and opened the little box in his hands, and she gasped softly when she saw the ring. "It's beautiful."

"I hoped you'd like it." He eyed her. "You'll wear it?"

"Only if you put it on me," she chuckled. The grin that spread across his face warmed her heart, and she smiled right along with him.

"You sure?" he teased, eyeing her as he slipped the little ring out of the box and took her hand in his.

"Of course I am, jerk," she laughed, wiping at her tears. "I've never been more certain about anything. I just wanted you to be sure."

"You satisfied?" he asked, slipping the ring onto her finger.

"Yeah. I think so," she laughed, admiring the ring for only a moment before her hands were tugging at the collar of his tux jacket. She pulled him into a kiss, bringing her hands up to his face before draping her arms over his shoulders and sinking into the moment. "I love you."

"Love you," he murmured, burying his face against her neck, peppering soft kisses along her throat. When he pulled back, he saw her eyeing the silver platter on the table. "Thought you might be hungry after all the runnin' around Michonne's had you doin'."

"Oh, you knew about that, huh?" she laughed.

"Yeah. 'Course I shoulda figured you'd be too stubborn to keep away from your cabin for too long. Good thing the staff 'round here works for tips." Carol laughed and shook her head.

"Ok, what's under the platter? My appetite just came screaming back." Daryl smirked at that.

"Some strawberries. Whipped cream . Goes good with champagne." He snorted. "Don't be surprised if there's chocolate syrup under there."

"Oh, somebody had high hopes." She winked at him.

"Nah, the kitchen manager's just a prick who thinks he's got a sense of humor."

"Well," she offered, curling his tie around her finger. "Maybe he's got the right idea." She grinned when she saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat.

"Yeah?" he asked. "You sure?"

"Mmm. I'm sure about a lot of things today," she chuckled, leaning in to kiss him, but instead, finding herself flying forward when the yacht pitched, sending her falling against him. The platter and candles careened to the floor, putting out the flames and leaving them in darkness. "Ow!" She landed on top of him on the bed, and their foreheads knocked together. "I'm sorry."

"Hell, we got a hurricane out there or somethin'?"

"Rough seas," she chuckled as thunder shook the cabin. "Ok, maybe a hurricane." Daryl's fingers gripped at her lower back, and she smiled as her hand brushed over his chest in the darkness. "That gonna stop us?" She felt his chest hitch under her, and then his other hand came up, blindly brushing over her shoulder before moving to the zipper of her dress. She smiled in the darkness and found his lips with her own, sighing as she let the taste and feel of him take over her senses.

His hand moved over her ass, giving her a little squeeze as she straddled his hips, tugging at his tie gently, playfully. He sat up a little, seeking her out, chasing her kisses, breathing in the scent of her and reveling in the way her hands made his skin tingle when she loosened his tie.

A knock came to the door, and Carol tensed on top of him.

"Hey, guys, uh, we got a little problem out here. Storm's coming fast, and we don't have time to ferry people to shore. We're braving out the storm but it's gonna be a little rough. Wedding's gonna be pushed back an hour or two." It was Tara on the other side of the door.

"Ok, thanks, Tara," Carol called.

"Yeah, thanks," Daryl muttered.

"Oh! Hey, Daryl! Uh, did she say yes?" Tara asked hopefully, pressing her ear to the door. She heard a bit of a clamor before the door swung open, flooding light into the dark room, where Daryl was lying on the bed with his tie undone and his shirt partially unbuttoned. Carol's hair was wild, and her lips were swollen from kisses.

"I said yes," Carol promised, flashing the ring briefly before putting a 'do not disturb' sign around the door handle and shutting it and flipping the lock into the latch. On the other side of the door, Tara beamed and did a little fist pump before walking away to leave the future Mr. and Mrs. Dixon alone for some much needed privacy.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

His hands were rough and calloused, but the way he touched her sent chills down her spine. She shivered as he peppered kisses along her jaw. When she felt his warm breath against her ear, she sighed and tucked her hands into the jacket of his suit, pushing it off of his shoulders and onto the bed beside them. He pulled back then, and she grinned as he slipped his tie off and tossed it aside.

She bit her lip as he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, and she brought her hand to his neck, gently trailing her fingertips down his chest as he worked the buttons. Her hands moved to his belt, tugging at it until his pants were undone and his shirt was un-tucked and joining the rapidly growing pile on the bedside.

She got up on her knees, bringing her hands up to his neck and pulling him into a hungry kiss. He groaned against her mouth, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. She giggled when his hand moved down her back, dragging the zipper along with it until he could slip her shoulder straps down her arms. The dress slid to her knees, and she quickly kicked it away before he pulled her flush against him, her chest heaving against his as he sucked at the hollow of her throat.

Her hand moved down his chest and over his stomach, fingertips slipping against the band of his boxers. He moved his hands down her back, pulling her closer, squeezing her ass and pushing into her. She gasped when she felt him against her thigh, and she pulled back briefly.

"You sure about this?" he asked. His voice was a whisper and a barely restrained growl.

"Mmm," she murmured, biting her lip as she brought her hands behind her back to unclasp her bra. The garment fell from her arms, and Daryl's eyes darkened as he let his gaze wander over her freckled collarbones and the pale flesh of her breasts. "Touch me." She took his hand in hers, bringing it up to her breast. He groaned at the sensation of her breast warm and heavy in his hand, and she threw her head back as he brought his other hand up to trace his thumb along the curve of her jaw. "Daryl…"

He brought her in for another kiss, trying to distract himself from his growing erection and the fact that she was kneeling on the bed in front of him in nothing but her panties. He'd dreamt of his moment countless times, and now that it was here, he wanted everything. He wanted to explore her slowly, tease her to the brink and reel her back in just before she went over the edge. He wanted to taste her, to bury himself in her, to feel her heart beating in sync with his. They had a lot of time to make up for, and he didn't know where to start first.

His hands moved to her hips then, gripping her a little firmly, tugging her closer. The back of his neck felt like it was on fire, and when she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, he wondered if somehow he was dreaming this whole thing. He wondered if he might wake any second just to find himself disappointed like so many other mornings he'd woken without her.

He stared at her then, watching the way her lips quirked into a smile, the way her blue eyes flickered in the pale light that came through the small port window that overlooked the ocean as the dark storm clouds rolled in.

"You ok?" she asked softly, as his gaze faltered.

"Yeah," he promised, fingers trembling and he brought his hand to her cheek. She put her hand over his, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thought about this a million times. Don't seem real." A smile spread across her face, and she put her hands on his shoulders.

"Lay back. Maybe this will convince you." She gently pushed on his shoulders, and he lay back on the bed, kicking his pants off, awkwardly peeling his socks off by hooking one toe from his opposite foot into the side of the offending garment and then doing the same with its match. Carol laughed when a sigh of relief left him when both feet were bare, and she crawled over to straddle his waist, grinding against the tent in his boxer shorts.

"Fuck, Carol," he bit out.

"That's kinda the idea," she teased, moving her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. And then she was sliding down the bed a little, kissing his chest and then his stomach, stopping short of the band of his boxers. He groaned when she traced her finger along the outline of his dick. He couldn't help thrusting his hips forward a little. He was transfixed, noticing how her blue eyes almost looked silver as she looked up at him and gave him a wicked little smile.

As much as he wanted it, as much as he wanted to feel her mouth on him, he needed something else more urgently. He reached for her then, and she crawled back up, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him sweetly.

Lightning shot across the sky, and the yacht pitched on the waves. Carol gripped the mattress on either side of Daryl's head, and he held strong around her waist until things settled again.

"You ok?" he asked with a snort, when he realized having sex on a yacht in the middle of a storm wasn't damned near as romantic as it had seemed in his head.

"Yeah," she laughed. "If the boat would stop moving, it'd be a lot better." It pitched again, and she collapsed on top of him with her boobs right in his face. Now, he'd pictured her boobs in his face a million times before, but in this instance, as much as he enjoyed the feeling of them pressed against his face, her laughter was contagious, and in moments, they were wrapped around one another, laughing as the thunder continued to roar overhead.

She sighed then, and she sat up a little, the motion causing friction between them again, and Daryl moaned when he felt her heat through the fabric of her panties and his boxers.

"Christ," he groaned. "Fuck, you keep doin' that, we're gonna have a mess here." She laughed sweetly and reached for his hand, bringing it back up to place against her stomach.

"It's ok," she offered. "Touch me."

"You sure that's a good idea? Think we're temptin' the gods here."

"Yeah, well, I've waited twenty-five years for this moment, so I'm not letting a little bad weather get in the way." And there it was again. That fire in her eyes, that desire for his touch, that longing look that drove him crazy and made him want to lay the whole world out at her feet. He'd do anything for her, and he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to find new ways to make her happy. In that moment, he made a solemn vow to himself.

"Alright," he murmured. "C'mere." He grabbed hold of her and rolled her onto her back in one swift motion, pressing soft kisses along her collarbones before dipping down to suck her nipple between his lips, tugging firmly, putting enough pressure there to get her writhing beneath him.

He cupped her other breast in his hand, kneading it gently as she squirmed under him, running her fingers through her own hair, grabbing fistfuls as his free hand wandered south, stroking her through her panties, feeling how damp and warm she was. The scent of her arousal filled him, and he groaned against her breast, teasing the little bud with his tongue before he moved to suck her bottom lip into his mouth. She grinned against his kiss, but her giggles turned into soft moans as he slipped his fingers beneath the waist of her panties, slipping his fingers between her wet folds, gathering up the lubrication his fingertips before seeking out her clit and teasing it gently.

"Daryl," she cried out, gripping the pillow under her head. "Oh, God. Please, don't stop. Please." He focused solely on the way her hips wriggled, how she tightened her thighs around his forearm, the way she clenched around him when he pushed two fingers inside.

It didn't take much. Maybe it was the fact that it had been a while for her, or maybe it was the fact that it was him touching her. He hoped it was the latter. When he felt a flood of warmth around his fingers and her trembling beneath him, he watched her screw her eyes shut and bite back a cry. He was in awe of her. She was so beautiful, and the way the pink flushed her cheek and her neck and chest as she came was a thing of beauty. And when she finally came down from her high and brought her hand up to cup his cheek, he wanted to kiss her so desperately.

His mouth was on hers in moments, kissing her hungrily as he practically clawed at her panties to get them down her hips. She squirmed on the bed, lifting her hips to give him room to work, and when he finally succeeded, he tossed them over his head and let his gaze wander down between her legs. His eyes grew dark again, and she sighed, chest heaving as he settled between her legs, kissing her stomach as he squeezed her thighs gently, applying just enough pressure in all the right spots.

"Daryl," she panted. "Condom…" She motioned vaguely to her suitcase that was now turned over on its side in the corner. She blushed when she saw the smirk on his face. Just the fact that she'd packed them told him all he needed to know. She'd been wanting this and hoping for this just as much as he had.

"I'm clean," he promised.

"So am I," she laughed, "and as much as I love you, I'm not on birth control, and I really don't want to get pregnant." Daryl eyed her for a moment.

"Ever?" he asked.

"We're a little old to be starting a family, aren't we?"

"We ain't too old for nothin'," he promised, grinning at her as he kissed the spot between her breasts. She chuckled and ran her fingers through his hair, gasping when he stroked her again, pushing two fingers inside of her, stretching her a little, rubbing her clit until she was clinging to him and gasping against his neck.

"Wait. Wait. Wait," she urged, pushing his hand away. "We should probably…probably talk about this." His lips were oh-so-distracting when he latched around her nipple. "Daryl?"

"Huh?"

"You want kids."

"Didn't say that. Just sayin' I wouldn't mind it if it happened someday." He kissed her stomach. "Don't have to have 'em. I'm happy so long as I got you."

"You're sweet," she chuckled.

"I got you, don't I?"

"Oh yeah," she whispered. "You've got me. Now take off your pants." Daryl smirked at that, and he rolled off of her, getting up from the bed and nearly slipping on the spilt ice from the champagne bucket.

"Shit. Where they at?"

"Uh…top zipper." Her body felt like it was on fire, and she couldn't help but run her hands over her breasts as she stretched back on the bed. She watched as he bent down to fish for condoms, and she took a good, long look at his taut back and the way his muscles pulled and flexed.

When he finally found the box and ripped it open, he grabbed one silver packet and suddenly looked shy as he stood there with the condom in one hand and his other hand poised at the waist of his boxers.

"You've seen mine." Daryl felt his face grow hot, and the way she was looking at him made his cock throb. He reached down to adjust himself, grabbing it just enough so she could get a big of a tease of what she had coming. He knew he was a decent size. He wasn't huge, but a bit on the larger than average size never got him any complaints before. And when he saw Carol's eyes darken, he knew this was it.

He tugged his boxers down in one swift movement, kicking them away and stepping toward the bed. She reached out for him, feeling a throb deep down.

"Come here," she whispered. He knelt on the bed then, quickly slipping the condom out of the wrapper and over his dick. She moved to her knees, inching toward him until her hands were on his shoulders, and her lips were pressing sweet kisses to his neck. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her legs around him. She gasped softly when she felt him nudging at her core.

"You sure about this?"

"Never been more sure of anything," she promised. He lay her back on the bed, and she tightened her grip around his hips with her thighs. He pushed against her, and she gasped, arching her back as she dug her nails into his lower back.

"You ok?"

"Don't stop," she begged. "Please."

He slid into her, slowly, nearly losing control more than once as her hot core enveloped him. She cried out against him, biting out her moans against his chest. He held himself up, pulling back to look at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, urging her to open her eyes.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he murmured. "Open your eyes." She gasped softly as he pushed in as far as he could, and her hands moved over his lower back and his ass, gripping him there when he began to move.

She looked up at him, looked at him with the very same love he felt when he looked at her every day. He pressed kisses to her temple, smoothed her hair back and he made love to her, pushing into her, feeling her stretching and pulsing around him, feeling her hands smoothing over his shoulders and his arms and his hips. He felt her mouth against his skin, held her closer, whispered softly to her.

And when she came, clenching around him, shaking in his arms, he nearly lost himself in her, letting himself fully embrace that it had finally happened for them, that he never had to go another day without telling her how he felt.

And then, he realized, she was stroking his hair and pressing kisses to his cheek. He was trembling, trying to hold on for her, trying to make it last.

"It's ok," she whispered softly, kissing his lips and pulling him closer. "It's ok. Let go." He looked down at her, fighting with everything in him to hold on a little bit longer, and there she was with those sparkling blue eyes and those kiss-swollen lips, and he wanted to get lost in her, to spend the rest of his life getting to know every bit of her he didn't already know.

And when he gripped her hips and pushed in a little harder, a little faster, her body began to respond to him once again, and when she came, he buried his face against her neck and thrust through it, feeling her walls tightening around him, feeling her hands grabbing at his shoulders for purchase. It didn't take much more before he felt all control floating away, and when he finally came, he heard her sigh contentedly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed kisses to his forehead.

When he finally pulled away and rolled to his back, he brushed his hands through his hair and folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, chest still heaving from the exertion. When he turned his head, she was lying on her back, head turned to stare at him with a grin on her face.

"So?" she asked playfully.

"So?"

"Twenty-five years. Was it worth the wait?" Her grin spread into a smile that made him blush, and he quickly grabbed for her, pulling her close. "Again? So soon?"

"Nah," he snorted. "Gimme a few for that, but there's a few other things we shoulda done a long time ago, and if it's alright with you, I wanna get down to 'em."

"Oh, by all means," she laughed, as he quickly slipped the used condom off and tossed it in the overturned bin by the bed. She wasn't quite sure what he had in mind until he grabbed her by the ankles and threw her legs around his neck. The second his lips touched the inside of her thigh, she was halfway gone, and he looked up at her to see the dizzying, intoxicating look in her eyes that made him fall in love with her all over again. He gently ran his hand up her leg, tugging her a little closer. She giggled, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He had to take a minute to remind himself that this was real. And in that moment of pause, she arched up to look into his eyes. "Why'd you stop?"

"Just catchin' my breath," he promised with a happy little grin, before he pressed a kiss to her stomach and found his focus once more.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The wedding went off with several hitches. First the storm. Then the groom was missing when the show was ready to go on. But he was found hanging his head over the side of the yacht. The choppy sea water and the champagne had finally gotten to him. But, some of the guys had gotten him presentable, and they'd finally said their vows. Despite the chaos, it was a lovely ceremony, and afterward, a mix of romantic songs fluttered about the yacht, while couples coupled off and singles went out to look for other singles.

After spending an appropriate amount of friend time with Michonne and Rick, Carol had ventured off to get some champagne, scanning the crowd with every intention of finding Daryl and slipping off for a few quiet moments together.

They'd spend the stormy afternoon exploring one another, touching each other in ways they'd only ever dreamed about. He'd been gentle with her until she'd begged him not to, until he had her screaming his name and biting out her cries against his shoulder.

"Hey, you coming to the party up on deck? I hear there are jello shots," Tara offered, walking hand-in-hand with Rosita.

"No, I don't think so," Carol chuckled. She scanned the crowd again.

"I just saw him duck into the bathroom. Hey, just so you know, I didn't tell anybody about…anything. Ok, except Rosita."

"Thank you," Carol said softly. "This is Michonne's day. I don't want anything to overshadow that for her." Carol had flipped her engagement ring upside down, keeping the diamond hidden, though anybody observant would obviously notice what particular finger she was wearing that ring on.

"But this is huge," Tara insisted. "I mean, it's you guys."

"Yeah, it's huge," Carol replied with a blush, "but it feels right. It feels like everything has finally fallen into place. I'm going to marry my best friend."

"That's so romantic," Rosita said with a smile. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Carol smiled. "And thank you, Tara, for not saying anything."

"Well, you know I get loose lips when I'm drinking, so…"

"I'll keep those lips occupied," Rosita promised, giving Tara a peck on the lips. Tara grinned then, and Carol felt a hand grab hers. She gasped softly but turned to look right into Daryl's blue eyes.

"I, uh, gotta go, ladies," Carol called, as Daryl led her across the floor and out into the hall.

"Where are we going?" she laughed, hurrying along behind him.

"My room. We pretty much trashed yours."

"Your room? And what will we be doing there?" Daryl turned to glance at her briefly before pulling her around a corner and pressing her against the wall, sliding one hand up along her neck and the other around her waist, leaning into kiss her breathless, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. When he pulled back, Carol's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek. "I like the way you think."

"Good," he smirked, brushing his thumb along the pulse on her neck. His nostrils flared, and his gaze locked on hers, and she felt a shiver run up her spine. She was achy and sore, but she still craved him, craved the things he could do to her with a kiss or a touch. While she was thrilled they'd finally taken that step, she couldn't help but want to kick herself for not doing this sooner with him. They fit so well together, moved like a well-oiled machine. As cliché as it sounded, they fit together like two pieces of a one-of-a-kind puzzle. There was nothing quite like it, and for the first time in her life, she felt she was very close to feeling the way the pretty lead in a romantic comedy feels when she meets the man of her dreams and falls head over heels in love.

The thing was, Carol had been in love with him for so long now that the idea of it ever happening had left her mind years ago. And now, here they were, barely able to keep their hands off one another long enough to get back to his cabin. To say they were making up for lost time was the understatement of the century.

When they finally got back to Daryl's cabin, he brought her hand up to his lips before noticing she'd flipped her ring around. When he looked at her, she blushed.

"I didn't want anybody to make a fuss. It was Michonne's day."

"She kinda already knows," Daryl pointed out. "She was texting me right up until the wedding. When we were…"

"Oh," Carol laughed. "So that's why she was smiling so big."

"Couldn't have been Rick," Daryl snorted.

"Nope," Carol laughed. "I'm happy for them."

"Yeah," Daryl murmured, shutting the door and pulling her into his arms. "I'm happier for us, though." She smiled against his kiss, giggling when he moved to kiss her neck and nibble her ear.

"We should have been doing this years ago. I was much more limber back then."

"You're pretty limber now," he offered.

"Things aren't as perky and firm as they used to be."

"Think I care about that?" he asked, tugging the zipper of her dress down her back for the second time that day. "You're perfect." She gently brushed her thumb over his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him softly.

"Look at you," she chuckled. "You've barely got a grey hair on your head. Funny how people can age so differently."

"Trust me, I got grey hair in other places."

"I noticed," she teased, tugging his tie over his head. His cheeks reddened, and she kicked off her heels and slipped out of her dress. "Don't worry, Pookie. I'm _definitely_ not complaining." He shrugged off his jacket and quickly unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it out of his pants as she shimmied out of her panties and unclasped her bra.

"How does somebody who takes a half hour to get ready manage to get naked in thirty seconds?" he snorted.

"Enthusiasm," she said with a grin before reaching out to unbuckle his belt. She stopped, mid-unbuckle and looked at him.

"We have a lot to talk about."

"We gotta do it now?"

"No," she laughed. "Not right now, but soon." Daryl wasted no time getting naked, and instead of leading him to the bed, Carol led him to his tiny wash room where a tiny shower stood in the corner. There was barely enough room for two people to move around comfortably, but how the hell was he going to say no when she was looking at him the way she was.

"Tight squeeze in there."

"Yeah, you might have to soap me up," she teased.

"Christ," he murmured, feeling his dick harden.

Carol took a good, long look at him and watched him curl his hand around the base of his dick, giving it a couple of good pumps. When she met his gaze again, he gave her a smirk that made her twinge down below. The man was so sexy without even trying, and now that she _really_ knew what she'd been missing, she wanted more all of the time.

She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, pondering her choices before she slipped out of the bathroom, grabbed his hand and led him back out to his bed.

"Thought you wanted a shower."

"Shower can wait," she murmured, pushing him back against the mattress and climbing on top of him. "You ok with that?"

"Hell yeah," he chuckled, before he tugged her hips down and reached for her to bring her into a hungry kiss.

...

"It's always the quiet ones," she laughed, strumming her fingertips against his chest.

"What?"

"You. That thing you do with your tongue."

"Oh," he blushed. "Ain't nothin'."

"Oh, sure," she snorted. "Three orgasms is nothing?" She pressed wet kisses to his chest, tasting him, teasing him with her tongue. "Where'd you learn that?" She frowned. "Nope. Nevermind. I don't wanna know." Daryl snorted and brushed his hand over the back of her head, kissing her forehead. "You know, it's a good thing we figured all of this out. I could have been dating some stranger from the Internet."

"What?" Daryl asked.

"Oh yeah. Michonne tried to get me to create a profile on the same website she met Rick on. It worked out for her. After all the failed dating attempts, I was considering it."

"Hell, ya shoulda come to me. As yer best friend, I coulda filled in for ya."

"Oh, like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Gee, why didn't you think of that before? Could have saved all that money on a ring."

"Stop," Daryl snorted. She giggled then and kissed him. "You're happy?"

"Very," she promised. "Are you?"

"This," he said quietly. "It's all I ever wanted." She smiled when he kissed her again. "Love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered softly, burying her face against his neck and breathing him in. "Always have."

 _Always will._

The End


End file.
